The Adventures of Chekov and Sulu
by bemj11
Summary: Chapter Twenty Five. Kirk was unprepared to be hugged by Ambassador Jahi, or kissed by his aide. Sulu flees the rec room. Things just aren't working out between the Enterprise crew and Jahi's people. And then, of course, Chekov has to show up.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own none of it, of course!

He stood uncertainly for a few seconds before sitting, on his face the look of one prepared for intense suffering. His eyes were worried, his posture slouched in admittance that he could not, at the moment, do anything to countermand Starfleet's stupidity, at least for the moment. Hopefully, desperately, he thought that maybe it wasn't complete stupidity. Maybe they were right, maybe…

He shook his head slowly and smiled at the man across the table, waiting so patiently for him to sit and begin the game, accepting that his companion would no doubt be looking for someone to talk to, to confide in, someone that could possibly rationalize everything out until it was okay.

He sat down, studied the object on the table between the two of them. After a moment, he lifted his hand, moved a piece, and waited. The other moved a piece of his own, and the game began.

They went on this way, playing, for the moment, in silence, waiting for the right moment to breach the unspoken subject, until the move was made, the piece captured easily.

"You seem distracted, Captain." His companion said calmly, one eyebrow raised. It was the Vulcan's way of asking what was wrong, and Captain Kirk sighed heavily.

"Have you heard anything about our new Chief Navigator?" Kirk asked easily, more easily than he felt. What he really wanted to do was call Starfleet and demand to know whose pig-headed idea this was, anyway.

Spock was silent for a moment, thinking. "It is not logical to place one's beliefs in rumors, Captain."

"But you've heard _something_." Kirk pushed.

"Indeed, Captain, I have. However, there has been nothing more substantial than Lieutenant Reilly's emotional outburst this morning."

"Emotional outburst?" Kirk asked skeptically.

"I believe his words were something similar to 'Put a kid in charge? Why don't you just kill us all now and be done with it?'" Spock said calmly.

"He is just a kid, Spock. Barely out of the Academy."

"He would not have graduated if his performance were not satisfactory." Spock pointed out.

"Well, maybe." Kirk replied. "But there's still a huge gap between what they teach you at the Academy and the reality of being out here, Spock."

"Starfleet would not give him the position if they did not believe he would be efficient in it."

"But is what they believe reality? How many times has Starfleet given people more than they could actually handle?" There was no need for Kirk to mention any names, they both knew enough of those men.

"He is posted here, Captain, therefore our only choice is to wait and see how he performs."

Kirk sighed, but was slightly less tense. "I guess you're right Spock." He moved a final piece, a glint in his eye. "Checkmate." He said with a smile that Spock does not return, instead curiously studying the chessboard.

"Indeed, Captain." He replied at last, looking up to study Kirk. "Well played."

"Illogically played, Mister Spock?" Kirk asked softly, taunting, a smug expression threatening to reveal itself completely.

"As usual, Captain." Spock affirmed. "However, it is a strategy that seems to work."

McCoy, of course, had his own opinion on the matter, as most of the Senior Officers did. He glared at Kirk as if it were _his_ fault that Starfleet had put a mere boy in the position of Chief Navigator, with an entire section under him.

"He's just a kid, Jim!" McCoy glowered, stabbing a finger in the direction of the picture from the Navigator's personnel file. "Look at him! Do you honestly think he's going to be able to handle that kind of pressure, that kind of responsibility? A whole department under him, and you can bet they're not going to be too happy about it. I'm not too happy about it myself." His tone softened near the end, but Kirk threw his hands up in desperation.

"It's not my decision, Bones, and you know it. If I could do anything about it I would."

"It's that bad, huh?" McCoy asked sympathetically.

Kirk simply shrugged, reluctant to admit aloud his helplessness in the matter.

"Well, maybe it'll turn out alright, Jim." McCoy said with false brightness.

"I don't know, Bones." Kirk replied, shaking his head. "Spock overheard Reilly complaining about having a kid in charge of Navigation, and he's a bit young himself. What happens when the older members find out about it? And how are the Senior Officers going to feel about having a mere boy as their equal?"

"Well, how are they taking it so far, Jim?" McCoy asked curiously. "That might give you some idea of how they'll handle it."

"Spock's content to wait and give him a chance." Kirk replied lightly. "My Commanding Medical Officer doesn't seem particularly thrilled, though."

They sat for a moment in silence, chewing their lunch quietly, watching the crew as they laughed, joked, and carried on over their lunches. A door opened, and Scott entered the Mess Hall. Kirk and McCoy watched as he ambled over and got his lunch, sharing a pleasant word here and there with various members of the crew, before coming back and joining Kirk and McCoy at their table.

"How're you doing, Scotty?" McCoy asked as the man sat down.

"Aye, pretty well, Doctor." The Scotsman repliet cheerfully, before frowning ever so slightly. "Heard sommat about the new Chief Navigator we're supposed ta be gettin'." He said to Kirk, his expression serious, and possibly slightly concerned.

"What about him?" Kirk replied, his heart sinking. So Scotty had heard, and wasn't too pleased about the choice, either.

"I heard we were goin' ta be gettin' a mere child and placing him in charge of the entire Navigation Department." Scotty said, watching Kirk closely.

"You heard right then." Kirk replied. "He's not very old. However, Starfleet assures me that he's good–very good. That he can handle the job."

"Aye." Said Scott knowingly with a skeptical grin. "And they say we're not at war with the Klingons, either."

Kirk sighed. This was not promising. "Just give him a chance, Scotty."

"Of course, Captain." Scotty replied almost instantly, and Kirk had to smile. His Senior Officers may have had their reservations about the new Officer, but they would still be professional about it.

Uhura was next to join the group for lunch, but if she had heard anything or had any reservations, it was not readily apparent. She talked and joked with them as usual, lightening the mood a bit as she did. If she noticed the concern among the three, she did not comment on it.

But then, Kirk thought, how often did the Communications Officer readily broadcast what she did and didn't know? How many times did she share information not relevant to the performance of the ship? And how often was she taken by surprise? Almost never, he thought as he laughed at her latest humorous story.

Sulu joined last, friendly, easygoing, willing to talk, but not to be pushed. He talked of many things, his latest hobby, the newest book he was reading, his past, his dreams, his passions, but if he did not care to answer a question, there was no getting it out of him.

He would smile, laugh, shrug, and change the subject before you knew what was happening. You didn't realize until later, after he was gone, that he had never answered your question. He didn't take offense, he just didn't answer, didn't care too, and everything was fine.

Kirk posed the question to the two when they didn't bring it up. "Heard anything about our new Chief Navigator?" He asked, and Uhura allowed a knowing glance to indicate she probably knew more about him that Kirk did.

"He's young, isn't he?" She responded vaguely.

"I'm afraid ye won't be the youngest o' the bunch anymore, lass." Scott said with a sad shake of his head.

"How young?" Asked Sulu curiously.

"Barely out of the Academy." Kirk replied. "Only has about seven months of service experience."

"That's not very much." McCoy said sharply.

"Depends." Said Sulu. "If he adapts well, learns quickly, it'll be enough."

"To head the Navigation Section?" McCoy asked incredulously? Sulu simply shrugged.

"What else do we know about him?" Sulu asked Kirk.

"He was head of his class." Kirk replied. "His name is Pavel Chekov."

"Hmmm." Said Sulu, frowning and staring out into nothing.

"What?" Asked Kirk, but there was no reply from Sulu. "Sulu?" He asked, and the Helmsman started and turned to face Kirk.

"Sir?" He asked.

"What about Chekov?" Kirk asked.

Sulu shrugged. "Sounds like he's Russian." He answered evasively. He would always try evasiveness before changing the subject.

"Russian?" Kirk asked "What has that got to do with anything?"

Again, Sulu shrugged. "Nothing, I suppose. Nothing more than Scotty being Scottish or me be Japanese or Mister Spock being Vulcan or Reilly being Irish, I suppose."

"Uh-huh." Kirk said, unconvinced.

Sulu shrugged yet again. There was a lot of that going on today. "Funny how we still note differences like that." He sighed. "Of course, some people still think it matters." He said, and Kirk frowned. "Really, I knew someone at the Academy who had trouble because several teachers assumed he couldn't speak English."

"Really?" Asked Uhura, inviting him to continue.

"Really." Sulu affirmed. "Then when he aced his exams, they tried to protest that the only way he could have passed them was to cheat."

"So what happened?" Asked McCoy.

Sulu grinned. "He convinced them they were wrong."

"How?" Asked Scott, leaning in.

"He goes to speak with Administration, accent gone, not even the slightest indication that he spoke anything other than English. His professors simply stood there, mouths agape."

"So what happened to your friend?" Uhura asked.

"He graduated, I guess." Sulu replied easily.

"You didn't keep in touch?" Kirk asked.

"We did." Sulu answered. "Just not much in work related matters. I doubt I've even mentioned where I'm posted."

"You didn't brag that you were on the USS Enterprise?" Uhura teased, a twinkle in her eyes.

Sulu smiled. "I don't know if it would impress him much." He said. Picking up his tray, he stood, and prepared to leave, before looking back at Kirk. "So am I correct in assuming he's going to be assigned the quarters next to mine?" Kirk nodded.

"Sorry son, you'll have to start sharing the bathroom with someone again." McCoy drawled, and Sulu chuckled before moving on. "I think he knows more than he's letting on, Jim." He said as Sulu moved out of earshot.

"Don't we all?" Uhura asked innocently, and Kirk was again grateful that she' was on _their_ side.

Kirk waited, impatiently, for his new Chief Navigator to beam aboard. He was now ten minutes late. Mister Spock would say ten point five three minutes, but Kirk tried not to let himself get tense enough to be that specific.

Finally the man from the personnel file beamed aboard, not in uniform, but in a ragged brown coat, dark jeans, and boots that were _not_ regulation. He carried a satchel with him but that was all, and his dark eyes revealed embarrassment mixed with amusement and a hint of irritation as he ducked his head and stepped down from the transporter pad.

"Report for duty, Keptin." The boy said with an accent so thick Kirk could hardly understand him. He saluted Kirk as he spoke. "Sorry am late, papa see me off and vas misunderstanding."

Kirk decided not to try to puzzle out the garbled excuse and stared at the Ensign – they had given him a mere Ensign! The boy met his eyes, sheepishness and good humor meeting Kirk's own serious eyes.

"Welcome aboard, Ensign." He said, stern and commanding. "This is First Officer Mister Spock, also Head of the Science Department."

Chekov raised his hand in the Vulcan salute and nodded to Spock. "Live long and prosper, sir." He said thickly, and Spock returned the greeting.

"Do you have anything else you need to beam aboard?" Kirk asked, and the boy looked at him, polite confusion evident in his eyes. Had Kirk ever met anyone with such expressive eyes?

"Is all, Keptin." He said after a moment, gesturing towards his satchel.

Kirk was surprised, usually people brought more with them, even with the limited space available on the Enterprise. "Very well, then. Shall I show you to your quarters?"

The boy himself looked surprised this time. "You, Keptin?" He asked. "Is proper?" Kirk wondered how he could have graduated from the Academy without speaking better English, but shrugged the thought away for now and smiled.

"Why not?" He asked easily. "We're both here, aren't we?"

"Yes, Keptin." The boy replied, his uncertainty plainly evident.

"Well, then. Shall we?" Kirk led the boy from the Transporter Room, telling him a bit about different areas they passed, and wondering why the boy had chosen not to arrive in uniform. He was surprised Spock hadn't said anything.

The boy was silent, looking around, listening intently, his eyes bright with eager excitement. As they reached the Ensign's quarters, he realized that the boy hasn't spoken more than two words since leaving the Transporter Room, merely nodding occasionally. Kirk wondered if he was even paying attention.

"Well, here are your quarters, Ensign. You'll be sharing a bathroom with our Helmsman next door." The boy nodded. "You'll need to check in with Doctor McCoy in Sickbay for a physical before going on duty tomorrow."

"Aye, Keptin." Chekov said.

"Well, then, if you'll excuse me, I'll see you on the Bridge tomorrow."

"Aye, Keptin. Thank." The boy saluted before turning sharply to enter his quarters, leaving Kirk alone in the hall and not entirely confident that this boy had what it takes to succeed as Chief Navigator. He shook his head and made his way to the Rec Room for another game of chess with Spock.

Funny how they could always tell when the other wanted a match.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own none of it, of course!

2

Kirk turned to watch as Ensign Chekov stepped onto the Bridge for duty seven point two five minutes late and wordlessly relieved Reilly. He bent over his console as if he weren't late, as if nothing were wrong. The Bridge Crew waited in tense silence for Kirk to respond.

"Ensign." Kirk snapped as he stood up.

Chekov darted up. There could be no doubt as to whom Kirk was addressing, that boy was the only Ensign currently on the Bridge. He turned sharply and stood at attention, saluting as he replied. "Aye, Keptin?" He asked, his eyes alarmed but alert, waiting.

"You're late." Kirk said sharply, almost angrily.

Chekov shrugged. "Get lost." He retorted, as calmly as if discussing the weather.

All motion ceased; the Bridge crew waited. "What was that?" Kirk asked, a smile that never meant anything good for its recipient playing about his lips.

The boy looked slightly confused, but held his ground. "Get lost." He repeated, with a little more emphasis than before.

Kirk took a step towards the boy, whose eyes widened, though he does not step back from his Captain's anger. Instead he looked around almost desperately. "Get lost!" He repeated, almost frantically. "Get lost and get direction."

Sulu looked up at that, his tension decreasing ever so slightly. "He means that he got lost, Captain, and had to get directions." Sulu explained, turning in his seat to look at the two.

The boy looks relieved and grateful. "Da." He agreed. "Get lost, get directions to Bridge. Wery sorry."

The Bridge crew relaxed as Kirk said, "Don't let it happen again," calmly and returned to his chair.

"Aye, Keptin." The boy said, saluting again before returning to his own seat. He turnd and muttered to Sulu, a thank you, Kirk assumed, as Sulu nodded and replied.

"You're velcome." Sulu turned back to his console so smoothly that Kirk almost didn't catch the accent on the word.

"Vhat?" Chekov murmured, his voice low, almost inaudible.

"I say you're velcome." Sulu replied innocently. Kirk frowned. His Senior Officers were good people, and until now he had not thought that any of them might be prejudiced. They were such a diverse group and worked well together, but here was Sulu, making fun of the young Ensign.

The boy looked confused, his brow furrowed, his eyes uncertain and slightly worried. "Vhat?" He asked.

"Vhat?" Sulu replied, so softly that Kirk realized that he was probably the only person on the Bridge hearing this.

Except Spock, a quick look in the Vulcan's direction confirmed. Spock was listening, and did not approve. "You know wery vell vhat." The Ensign retorted, a pout forming. Again Kirk is struck by the thought that this boy was far too young for his position.

Sulu looked almost completely innocent as he said, "I not knowing vhat you talking about. Wery sorry."

"Lieutenant." Spock said, and Sulu flushed, going silent. The boy shot an unreadable glance at the Helmsman as both went back to work.

Kirk sighed, but the rest of the shift went quietly and smoothly until the shift change.

"Arrogant, Kamikaze Jap." The boy muttered in Sulu's ear as he was relieved. Kirk looked over at Spock, who nodded almost imperceptibly. Leaving Sulu to Mister Spock, Kirk followed the boy.

"Ensign." Kirk said as Chekov reached the Turbolift. The boy turned sharply, and again saluted.

"Aye, Keptin?" He stood at attention, waiting for his Commanding Officer to tell him off in front of the Bridge Crew.

Kirk merely stepped onto the Turbolift, motioning for Chekov to follow. "Deck Five." He said, and they started moving. He watched the Ensign for a moment, still at attention, this time staring straight ahead. Finally he spoke. "Are you aware, Ensign, that Starfleet does not encourage discrimination based on age, religion, sex, or race?" He emphasized the last word, hoping the boy would get the point.

"Aye, Keptin." Ensign Chekov replied dutifully, still staring straight ahead.

"Make sure you follow that."

"Aye, Keptin." The boy said, saluting as Kirk stepped off the Turbolift.

"And no more salutes."

"Aye, Keptin." The boy nodded, and saluted once more, a glimmer of amusement and mischief in his brown eyes.

Kirk shook his head and turned away from the Turbolift.


	3. Chapter 3

Diclaimer: I own none of it, of course!

It was a good thing Sulu was off duty at the moment, was the thought that settled in Kirk's mind as the Helmsman entered the Rec Room in blue jeans, a brown t-shirt, and flip-flops.

"Isn't Sulu _always_ in uniform? McCoy leans forward to ask Kirk.

Kirk nodded. "Usually."

"Have you ever seen him _not_ in uniform?" McCoy demanded, and Kirk shook his head as Sulu approached them.

"Captain. Doctor." He greeted the two, sitting down as if there were nothing out of the ordinary in his choice of attire.

"Sulu." Kirk replied in greeting. "What are you wearing?" He asked curiously, wondering if there were an interesting story behind this.

Sulu simply shrugged. "Did you know Spock is teaching Uhura to play the Vulcan lyre?"

"Really?" McCoy asked, a bit surprised. "Where'd you hear that?"

Sulu nodded towards a corner of the room, where Spock and Uhura were sitting.

"Oh." McCoy said. "Well, who'd have thought." He shook his head, amused. "How long has this been going on?"

"Several months now." Sulu replied. "I'm surprised you hadn't noticed."

The door opened, and Ensign Chekov came sliding in, avoiding eye contact and making his way across the room. Sulu turned, saw him, and stood, shouting as he did so.

"Ensign!"

The boy snapped to attention at the command, somehow knowing Sulu was shouting for him.

"Aye, sir?" The boy asked mildly. His face was a study of innocence, save for his eyes, gleaming wickedly as he waited for Sulu's approach.

"Thief." Sulu accused as he reached the boy, and McCoy shot Kirk a glance.

The boy straightened, defiantly. "Slob." He retorted.

"Busybody."

"Lazy bum."

"Robber." Kirk and McCoy simply watched in horrified fascination as the two hurled insults back and forth.

"No such thing." The boy insisted at last.

"Where are my boots?" Sulu demanded. "And what have you done with my uniform?"

The boy rolled his eyes, muttered under his breath, and turned away.

"Ensign." Kirk said, deciding it was time to intervene. The boy froze.

"Aye, Keptin?" He asked, turning back to face Kirk. Mercifully, he left off the salute, though he still stood at attention.

"Did you do something with Lieutenant Sulu's uniform?" He asked.

"Aye, Keptin." The Ensign ducked his head.

"What?" Kirk demanded, irritated. Was his new Chief Navigator a thief?

"Put in closet, Keptin. In floor, I tripped, put back vhere it go." The accent was so thick Kirk had no idea what exactly the Ensign was saying.

Kirk frowned. "Return Sulu's things, Ensign." Kirk told him, and was surprised when Sulu chuckled. "What?" He asked.

"He put them in my closet, Captain." Sulu explained, amusement plain on his face.

"Usually leave in floor." The boy put in. "Trip over in bathroom, put avay."

McCoy frowned. "You didn't think to check your closet for your clothes?"

Sulu shrugged easily. "It isn't where I usually leave them."

"Is slob." The boy insisted. "Wery messy."

"So you picked his clothes up for him?" McCoy drawled sarcastically.

The boy shrugged, but didn't say anything.

"Don't move anything else of mine, Ensign." Sulu said. "I don't want to have to find everything again.

"Is vonder can find thing anyvay." The boy muttered as he excused himself.

McCoy and Kirk merely looked at each other, and Kirk sighed.


	4. Chapter 4

Diclaimer: I own none of it, of course!

Kirk sat in the Captain's chair, patiently waiting. Sooner or later, he knew, Sulu would look up from his work, and Kirk would know for certain.

Sulu sat hunched over his console, studiously avoiding looking anywhere else. Eventually, though, he forgot, and Kirk was not quite prepared for the large dark bruise along his jaw.

"Sulu?" He asked, and the Helmsman tensed.

"Sir?" Sulu replied.

"Turn around." Sulu obliged, though unwillingly. "What happened to your face?"

Sulu smiled, then winced, and shrugged, but Kirk was having none of that today.

"What happened?" He demanded, his tone commanding. Sulu hesitated. "Do I need to directly order you to tell me?"

Sulu flushed. "No, sir." He said with a sigh. "I had a run in with Ensign Chekov's fist, sir."

Kirk turned his attention to the boy, and failed to see the look of alarm that crossed Sulu's face as he realized he had turned the Captain's wrath on the boy. "Ensign?"

"Aye, Keptin?"

"Did you hit Lieutenant Sulu?"

"Aye, Keptin."

Kirk wasn't certain what to do. It was against regulation for a Senior Officer to strike a fellow officer. These two should have known that. "Why?" He managed to ask.

"He ask for it." The Ensign replied, almost indignantly.

Kirk sighed. "Ensign, it is against Starfleet regulations to strike a fellow Officer."

"Aye, Keptin." The kid was still seated, Kirk realized, facing away from Kirk.

"Ensign?"

"Aye, Keptin?"

"Turn around." Slowly Ensign Chekov stood and turned around, and Kirk noticed the black eye he was sporting. "What happened to you?" He demanded in disbelief.

"He did." The boy nodded towards Sulu. "Ve vere fighting."

"Sparring." Sulu specified.

Kirk stifled a groan. "Did this happen to take place in the gym?" He asked.

"Aye, Keptin." The boy nodded. "Vere exercising."

"As you were." Kirk sighed, wondering why the two hadn't just said so in the first place. "And see Doctor McCoy about those after your shift is over."


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I own none of it, of course!

"The boy eats too much, Jim." McCoy was solemn and almost grim, and Kirk had to stifle a laugh. "I mean it. Have you seen him eat?" Kirk shook his head. The boy was actually rather reclusive, and Kirk didn't see much of him outside of duty shifts. McCoy continued. "Yesterday he had eggs, bacon, toast, sausage, biscuits, pancakes, and tea. For breakfast. Lunch and dinner were just as bad, never mind what he eats between meals." McCoy was scowling now, having brought up a list of everything the boy had eaten yesterday on his computer.

"What do you want me to do about it, Bones?" Kirk asked, wondering how anyone could eat that much. "Do you want me to give him the lecture on overeating?"

"I don't know, Jim." McCoy sighed. "This isn't a problem we usually have."

"Change his diet card. That's what you do to me whenever you think I've been eating too much." McCoy smiled, but shook his head. "I can remind the whole crew that eating too much or too little is unhealthy.

"You could ask if he's actually overeating." A third voice cut in.

Sulu stood in the doorway to sickbay, leaning against the frame. "You could ask if it's normal for him to eat that much."

"How long have you been standing there?" McCoy demanded angrily. This was supposed to be confidential.

"Not long." Sulu replied easily. He pushed away from the frame. "I went to school with this guy who ate a lot. The instructors noticed, limited how much he was allowed to eat. Turned out he had a fast metabolism, he needed to eat that much. He lost ten pounds the next week, twenty-five by the third."

"How long did it take for them to notice?" McCoy asked distastefully.

Sulu shrugged, then, "I almost forgot what brought me here. Can you do anything about this? I scratched my hand."

"With that ridiculous foil of yours, I'd wager." McCoy growled, checking the injury before treating it.

"Yes, sir." Sulu admitted.

"I'm surprised. Someone actually scored on you?"

"Luck. I was taking it easy on him. I shouldn't have."

"Arrogance will cost you." McCoy commented. Sulu chuckled.

"So ask him." Sulu said later, McCoy's work finished, as he left sickbay.

Ensign Chekov looked from Kirk to McCoy. "Eat too much?" He repeated. "Vhy?" He frowned in thought for a moment, then his troubled expression cleared. "Oh, yes. Hear before. Some think eat too much. Have wery fast metabolism. Wery active. Exercise much. Is normal for me."

Kirk and McCoy exchanged a glance. McCoy groaned.

"What?" McCoy asked, and it was the Ensign who sighed this time.

"I hafe been told before I eat too much, but I hafe a wery fast metabolism, exercise a lot, and am wery active in general. I stay busy." The Ensign spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully.

"Oh." McCoy said, not quite convinced.

"Vas fit for physical, no?" The boy asked.

"Yes, you were in excellent shape." Came the reply.

"And still in good shape, no?"

"You seem fine." McCoy admitted.

"Alvays eat like so." The Ensign said.

"I see." Said McCoy. "Well, I'd like to keep an eye on you, just to be sure."

The boy shrugged. "Is good." He said easily. It was only after the Ensign had left that Kirk began to wonder why Sulu seemed to be looking out for Chekov when they didn't seem to get along.

Sulu translated for the Russian, explained things to the Russian, and today had interceded on his behalf, while tomorrow he could be conceivably be insulting the boy in Japanese.

Kirk had heard some of those phrases before, used in conjunction with situations or persons Sulu did not particularly care for. Very few of them could be described as even mildly insulting.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I own none of it, of course!

They sat at their stations, watching over them, on another routine day that was actually routine, and therefore boring. Or would have been.

As it was, the shift was annoying and practically unbearable. Sulu and Ensign Chekov sat, eyes on their consoles, spitting what Kirk assumed were insults back and forth in Japanese and Russian, respectively.

"Baka." Sulu snapped, and the Ensign quickly retorted.

"Choodniee"

"Mushi."

"Gloopbiee."

"Raibyo."

"Bespolezniee."

"Karabaka."

"Zmeyah."

Kirk cleared his throat, and the two fell silent. "Gentleme." He said, and they turned to face him, wearing similar expressions of- what? Of annoyance?

But that was gone in a flash, and Ensign Chekov looked worried, amused, and- innocent? – while Sulu merely looked curious.

"Captain?"

"Aye, Keptin?" The responses came simultaneously.

"What are you doing?" Kirk asked pleasantly, though he felt nothing of the sort, and was actually getting tired of mediating between the two men.

"Sir?" Sulu asked. Kirk tried to stare him down, but the Helmsman's eyes remained guiltlessly puzzled.

"Ensign?" Kirk focused his attention on the boy, who ducked his head awkwardly.

"Keptin?" He asked the floor.

"What were you doing?"

"Talking?" It came out more like a question than an answer.

"About what?" Kirk asked, and the boy flushed. "What were you saying?"

"Sir?" Sulu asked. When Kirk did not relent, Chekov slouched and sighed.

"He called me fool." The Ensign explained reluctantly. Spock raised an eyebrow at this, and Kirk made a mental note to ask why later.

Sulu sighed as well. "So he called me a monster."

"Then he call me insect." The Ensign continued.

"Stupid." Sulu supplied the next translation.

"Leper."

"Useless."

"Idiot."

"Snake. Then you stepped in." Sulu finished. Kirk looked back and forth at the two men. Neither seemed particularly angry with each other, for all the insults.

"Why?" Kirk asked at last. The two men exchanged a glance, then shrugged. Kirk sighed. The two of them were slowly driving him insane. "Never mind." He said briskly, moving to stand by Spock.

"What is it?" He asked quietly.

Spock shook his head, almost imperceptibly. "Nothing of consequence, Captain." He replied.

"But?" Kirk pressed.

"They were translating for each other, Captain. I merely found it interesting."

Kirk frowned. "But that would suggest…"

"That both speak Russian and Japanese as well as English."

"But he barely speaks English." Kirk grumbled.

"Perhaps." Said Spock as he turned back to his station.

Kirk wondered what Spock meant by that.


	7. Chapter 7

The landing party stood, gazing about them at the beginnings of pleasantly rolling hills and the beginnings of a forest to their right. The sky was clear, and the sun was bright, warm, and inviting. A slight breeze blew, and the area gave off an aura of peacefulness.

Kirk was alert immediately, having found it never a good idea to let his guard down even in these situations. McCoy took his cue from Kirk, and Sulu was always aware during these excursions.

Chekov, however, stood gazing in delight at the landscape. He took a deep breath and sighed happily. His eyes were calm, relaxed, and curious. Kirk hoped he hadn't made a mistake in having the boy join the landing party.

True, he seemed to be handling his position on board the Enterprise, at least acceptably. He mostly kept to himself, though, and Kirk knew no more of him now than he had when the young Ensign had first come aboard. Kirk made a note to try to remedy that. In the mean time…

"Ensign." He called the boy back to attention.

"Aye, Keptin." The boy was immediately all business; even his smile had disappeared.

The group spread out, exploring; studying the landscape, the plants. They settled down to taking samples f the local plants and readings on the atmosphere. The Ensign, Kirk noted, carefully kept himself an equal distance from Sulu and the Captain himself. Half an hour went by without incident.

Suddenly, Chekov straightened, let out a strangled cry, and launched himself at Sulu, who had ventured near the wooded area. He slammed into the helmsman and the two hit the ground and rolled as a large mass came bounding out from the tree, landing right where Sulu had been just seconds before.

The creature was cat-like, and orange, somewhat reminiscent of a tiger. It yowled as it turned to glare at Chekov and Sulu.

The two had been disentangling themselves and getting up, but both froze now, half crouched, staring at the creature. Neither moved as it slowly approached, whether from fear or something else entirely, Kirk did not know. The creature studied them both before turning its focus on Sulu. It tensed, and Chekov jerked.

It was just a tiny movement, but it distracted the creature from attacking as it turned to see what had moved. The Ensign stared back at it unflinchingly, every muscle tense.

The creature tensed again, and this time it was Sulu who moved, forestalling another attack. The creature refocused its attention again, and Sulu swallowed nervously.

Kirk watched helplessly as this went on. They were the visitors to this planet, this could be intelligent life, they couldn't just attack it. Sulu and Chekov seemed fine, at least for now. Kirk waited, McCoy beside him grumbling under his breath.

The creature suddenly let out a horrible scream, and Sulu froze. The creature leaped towards him, and a yell split the air.

Chekov slammed forward and into the thing, catching it off guard, and managing to infuriate it. The creature growled, and turned on the Ensign.

"Pavel!" Sulu snapped, drawing his phaser and firing it in one fluid motion. The creature dropped, and Chekov fell under it.

Sulu was there in a second, shoving the creature off the boy. Kirk followed as McCoy rushed over, medical scanner ready.

Chekov was sitting up slowly, Sulu beside him, muttering in what Kirk by now was coming to recognize as Russian as Sulu tried to ask if he were okay.

"Am fine." He said abruptly to McCoy as they reached him. Bruised, light scratch only." He was already trying to stand.

"Hold on there, son." McCoy glowered, placing a hand on his shoulder, his other hand using the mediscanner to look for injuries. "Well, you've been very lucky, kid." He said after a moment. "Could've gotten yourself killed."

"Thanks." Said Sulu as he helped the Ensign up. Chekov merely shook his head and started muttering again.

They moved away from the creature, hoping it would remain unconscious for a while.

"While I'm glad you two are okay," Kirk said reluctantly, "you could very well have been violating the prime directive back there."

"Nyet." The Ensign interjected.

"Pardon?" Kirk asked.

"Not intelligent."

"No? How can you be sure?"

"Eyes." Chekov replied cryptically.

"What?" Kirk asked. He was starting to feel a bit irritated.

"You could tell by its eyes." Sulu explained. "It was a wild animal. Are you sure you're okay?" He asked Chekov, who responded with more mutterning. Sulu chuckled. "Fine, then." He replied easily.

Kirk and McCoy exchanged a glance. "Hey, I've got a question." McCoy drawled.

"Duck." Sulu replied.

"Vhere?" Chekov asked, dropping to the ground. Sulu followed suit, shoving Kirk into McCoy as he did so.

The creature was back, and had barely missed them as it leapt. More than that, it was angry. It turned almost immediately, tail swishing violently back and forth.

"Heads up." Kirk said. He had seen several more prowling behind them.

"Great." McCoy groaned.

One of the creatures yowled, and suddenly everything was a mess of claws, orange fur, and frail human bodies.

Kirk somehow lost his phaser as he fought to keep the attacking beasts off him. It was all he could do to avoid the creature stalking him. He jumped back as it launched towards him, and felt a sting as it caught his arm.

Kirk hissed. It was a shallow though; the creature had barely gotten him. Next time he might not be so lucky. Kirk wondered if the luck of his men were holding out.

Thunder clapped suddenly overhead, and the creatures yowled. No one had noticed the clouds building up, or the change in the atmosphere. A downpour began, and the creatures fled, hissing and spitting as they went.

It was, quite suddenly, dark. And wet. Very wet, and cold, and windy. Kirk paused to make sure he was still alive, and looked around for his men.

He was fine, except for his arm. He quickly found McCoy, who, amazingly enough, was unscathed.

Lightning flashed, and Kirk caught a glimpse of Sulu leaning on Chekov. Kirk and McCoy went to meet them.

"Everyone alright?" Kirk had to shout to be heard over the weather. Thunder rumbled constantly, and the wind was beginning to howl.

Chekov shook his head, and McCoy leaned close to Kirk to shout.

"…Shelter!" Was the only word Kirk could make out.

He looked around desperately, the trees the only shelter in sight. They would have to risk the lightning.

Kirk motioned towards the trees, and McCoy shook his head in resignation. He knew there wasn't any other place available, or Kirk wouldn't have suggested it.

Chekov, however, stared at the trees incredulously. Sulu rolled his eyes at the boy, and muttered something Kirk doubted anyone could hear. Chekov, however, shrugged, and followed Kirk's lead.

They were completely drenched and covered in mud by the time they reached the trees. Although it was a little drier, it did nothing for the noise. They sat down wearily, and McCoy quickly checked over Kirk before turning to the Ensign.

Knowing it would be useless to try to talk, Chekov shook his head and waved him off. McCoy tried to insist, and Chekov flashed him the hand sign for "okay." McCoy shrugged and moved on to Sulu.

A moment later he looked up, and his eyes were worried. Kirk went for his communicator- it was gone. Of course it would be. Kirk sighed and looked to McCoy, pantomiming opening a communicator. McCoy checked for his, and shook his head. He didn't have one either.

Nor did Chekov or Sulu. They must have lost them in the fight, Kirk realized. Phasers too. And they couldn't go back for them in this weather, they'd never find them. They would have to wait until morning, if the weather cleared.

McCoy's eyes were grave as they met Kirk's. Kirk turned to study Sulu, who was leaning against the Ensign for support.

Sulu was pale, his face drawn. His left leg had been scratched rather badly, and his right shoulder clawed. He had lost a bit of blood already, Kirk guessed. He hoped Sulu didn't go into shock.

Chekov leaned against a tree, one arm around Sulu, almost protectively, supporting the Helmsman and leaning close to mutter constantly into his ear. Every once in a while Sulu would nod or shake his head.

McCoy glared at Kirk desperately, wordlessly telling him that things were bad. There was nothing they could do, however, but wait.

They waited, and dozed fitfully in the cold, damp dark, but mostly Kirk let his mind wander.

They had bickered and fought and insulted each other since Chekov had come aboard, but suddenly Sulu and Chekov were acting as if they each valued the other's life more than their own. Chekov's eyes, as he stared briefly at Kirk before returning his attention back to Sulu, had been terrified for the other man. Kirk wasn't certain he understood what was going on between the two.

Kirk studied the Ensign curiously until Chekov felt his gaze on him and looked up. The boy smiled tersely and shrugged.

Kirk eventually dozed off, and when he awakened, it was morning. The storm had abated, and the sun had come out. Chekov was maneuvering Sulu into a position against the tree where McCoy could keep an eye on him, as he seemed slightly less aware this morning. McCoy didn't have to say a word for Kirk to realize things were urgent.

Kirk set off back towards the scene of the fight, determined to find a communicator as soon as possible. He stopped as he heard footsteps behind him. Chekov was following. Two would be able to search better than one.

"So, you alright?" He asked, looking back at Chekov. The boy nodded shortly. Figuring now was as good a time as any, he asked, "What's going on with you and Sulu?"

The Ensign merely shrugged and grunted.

Kirk wasn't giving up yet. "I mean, you argue, you hurl insults at each other, you fight and carry on, but suddenly down here you're worried sick about him." Kirk said casually as they walked.

"So?" The boy asked.

"Just wondering why." Kirk replied pleasantly. The Ensign didn't reply. They continued walking in silence.

Kirk was getting annoyed with the boy as they reached the clearing. Wordlessly he began to search for a communicator.

He paused a few minutes later as a shadow fell over him. He turned to see Chekov standing uncertainly. "What?" He asked, trying to keep his irritation out of his voice. They needed to find those communicators.

The boy swallowed. "Vill Sulu be alright?" He asked, his accent almost incomprehensible. His eyes were earnest, fearful. Kirk sighed. He really was just a kid.

"The sooner we find a communicator, the sooner we can get back to the Enterprise, Ensign. McCoy will be able to take care of him there." Kirk hoped so, anyway.

Chekov nodded, and they went back to searching. Five minutes later he heard a triumphant exclamation from Chekov. He had found one of the communicators.

"Good work, Ensign." Kirk said. "Let's get back to the others."

Chekov nodded slowly. "Aye, Keptin." He said heavily. Kirk frowned.

"Are you alright, Ensign?" He asked yet again.

"Vhat?" The boy started. "Aye, am fine, sir." He replied tersely. His eyes told a different story.

"What is it, Ensign?" Kirk demanded. The boy flinched.

"Is nothing." He said with a sigh, his tone defiant. "Just scratch."

"Where?" Suddenly, Kirk felt worried, and anxious feeling settling in his stomach like a block of ice.

Chekov shrugged, then winced. Slowly he turned around, and Kirk bit back an oath. "Why didn't you say anything?" He demanded.

"Couldn't hear me last night." Chekov replied defensively.

"You could have said something this morning." Kirk insisted.

"More important things." The boy grunted. "Have been injured before, Keptin.

"That's not the point, Ensign." Kirk fought down the urge to shout at the boy. Such stupidity could have caused serious problems; they had been very lucky so far. "You should have stayed with Doctor McCoy and Sulu."

"You vould still be looking for communicator." Chekov pointed out, his tone almost sulky. He looked towards the trees. "Are vaiting for us."

Kirk started walking, but wasn't about to let it rest. "You could have collapsed. You were carrying Sulu. You both could have fallen."

"Nyet. Did not happen." Chekov scowled.

"But it could have." Kirk insisted.

Chekov sighed. "Fine. Sorry, Keptin. I let you know if happens again." He stalked forward, leaving Kirk to follow.

Kirk sighed and followed, inspecting Chekov's back as well as he could through the dried mud and blood. Apparently one of the creatures had managed to rake his claws diagonally across the boy's back. It was a mess, and had been ignored. Kirk berated himself, wondering how no one had noticed the injury.

"Bones, look him over." Kirk said as he and Ensign Chekov reached the others. McCoy did, and swore.

"What do you think you're playing at, son?" He demanded angrily, but Chekov merely ignored him to look around for Sulu. He found him leaning against the same tree, and went to him.

"He's more worried about Sulu than about his own hide." McCoy scowled.

"I've noticed." Kirk replied drily. He flipped open the communicator. "Kirk to Enterprise."

Uhura's voice was a welcome sound. "Enterprise here, Captain."

Disclaimer: As you well know, Star Trek is not mine. I own nothing having anything to do with Star Trek, except for some books, some movies, some glasses, and a poster I bought. Sadly, those don't count.


	8. Chapter 8

"How are they, Bones?" Kirk asked, and was worried by the scowl that McCoy gave in reply. It was not a good sign.

"Sulu and Chekov?" He growled irritably. "They won't shut up."

"Maybe they're just catching up." Kirk suggested unconvincingly. He was relieved, however, that it was nothing more serious.

"No, I think they're arguing." McCoy drawled.

"You _think_?" Kirk asked, puzzled. He wasn't sure?

McCoy shrugged. "I don't speak Russian."

"Russian?" Kirk repeated, more confused than before.

"Can you tell them to shut up? They don't pay any attention to me. They're giving me a headache."

"Certainly." Kirk agreed hesitantly, not entirely sure what McCoy expected him to do.

The two were indeed talking, rather loudly and enthusiastically, and very rapidly, and certainly not in Federation Standard. Sulu was frowning as he spoke, and the boy wore a scowl as he listened to Sulu's exclamations.

"Gentlemen." Kirk stepped between the two beds, successfully causing a halt in the conversation.

"Now, why didn't I think of that?" McCoy muttered under his breath.

"Captain." Sulu greeted Kirk easily.

"Keptin." The boy's tone held just the slightest trace of the emotion it had before; his face had cleared, only his eyes betrayed the conversation he had just been involved in.

"Glad to see you're feeling better, Sulu." Kirk remarked, turning to face the helmsman.

"Why, thank you sir." Sulu replied.

"Ensign Chekov kept a pretty close watch on you down below." Kirk commented, and Sulu smiled uncomfortably. "Wouldn't even let us know that he was injured himself." Behind Kirk, the boy stayed quiet.

Sulu shrugged. "I know. I told the idiot it wasn't a good idea, but..." He trailed off with another shrug.

"So what is it with you two?" Kirk asked.

"What do you mean, Captain?" Sulu asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"He thinks vhat most people think. That ve don't like each other." Chekov put in from behind Kirk.

Sulu grinned and chuckled. "Why would he think that?"

"Same reason as everyone, perhaps." Chekov replied brightly.

"Hmmm..." Sulu said thoughtfully. Kirk was starting to get exasperated when the helsman finally spoke. "We tease each other, Captain, pick on each other, but we actually like each other just fine."

"Vent to Academy together." Chekov continued the explanation.

"Right. My last three years, we were roommates. We got to be pretty good friends, actually."

Kirk frowned. "So the arguements? The insults? Everything?"

"Just joking around, I'm afraid, Captain." Sulu confirmed.

Kirk shook his head slowly. "Well, anyway, Doctor McCoy would appreciate it if you would quiet it down while you're here."

"Yes, sir." Sulu replied with a grin.

"Aye, Keptin." Chekov agreed solemnly.

Kirk left, after checking to see how Chekov was, feeling as if the two had somehow pulled something over on him.

Disclaimer: Star Trek does not belong to me.


	9. Chapter 9

Tension filled the air as the silence on the bridge remained unbroken. No muttering, no insults, no jokes, nothing. Sulu and Chekov wordlessly and efficiently managed their stations.

Chekov was silent, tense. He sat at his station, avoiding eye contact with everyone, even Sulu. No smiles of greeting as he came on duty, no joking around with whomever he was replacing.

He sat hunched in his chair, his jaw clenched, his fists as well, when not otherwise occupied. A scowl discouraged those who considered asking what was wrong.

Sulu sat beside him, anxious, shooting questioning glances at the other man. Finally, he spoke in a whisper that could still be heard clearly on the bridge. The bridge was not a place of secrets.

"Pavel." There was no acknowledgement, and the rest of the bridge crew pretended not to have heard anything. "What is it, Pavel?" The Helmsman hesitated. "Is the fa-"

Chekov whirled around abruptly, cutting the other man off. "Shut up!" He snarled, eyes blazing. "Just shut up, Hikaru!" He jerked back to glare at his console.

Sulu shook his head at Kirk's inquiring glance. "I'll talk to him later." He mouthed, turning back to his own station, seemingly unoffended by Chekov's outburst.

Nonetheless, Kirk decided to have a talk with the Ensign after his shift. Something was wrong, he knew, and wasn't entirely sure Sulu was the best person to help, in spite of how close as the two were.

Kirk rounded the corner leading towards the boy's quarters, and there the two were, in the corridor. Chekov slouched miserably on the floor, his back against the wall, while Sulu knelt beside him.

"What happened, Pasha?" Sulu asked softly. "Mom and Dad, are they-"

Chekov shook his head. "Nyet. They are fine." He said, the thickness in his voice not entirely due to his accent. His eyes were tightly closed as he spoke. "Is Grandfather." A shudder ran through the boy's body.

"What happened to Grandfather?" Sulu asked gently, sitting down beside Chekov.

The boy took a deep breath. "He is gone. Killed himself, they said. Found out right before shift."

Sulu sat wordlessly for a moment, then: "He never recovered, Pasha. At least now-"

"He should have been home!" Chekov shouted angrily. Sulu sighed.

"I know." He said sadly.

"They said it vas a security risk." Chekov said in a near whisper. "He needed to be with his family." He continued falteringly. "Maybe-" His voice caught, and he buried his head in his hands. Sulu laid a hand on the boy's shoulder as he began to shake. A muffled sob escaped, and Kirk suddenly felt like an intruder.

"Focus on the good, not the bad, Pasha." Sulu murmered at last. "There were good times, there was some happiness. At the end-" Sulu's own voice faltered, and he paused a moment before continuing, "At least he's at peace now, Pasha, free from all that."

Chekov sighed, and looked up at the other man. "At least." He agreed, tears falling freely, unashamedly. "And a lot of it _vas_ good, no?"

"From what I've heard, I'd have to say so." Sulu replied.

Chekov took a deep breath, and slowly stood. Sulu stood too, and looked the boy over.

"I'll be fine." Chekov managed a small smile. "Thanks." He turned and headed for his quarters. Sulu watched him go, then turned to look at Kirk. He had known Kirk was there all along.

"Chekov's grandfather was in Starfleet. He was in a landing party that was captured by Klingons and tortured for information. He was never quite right after that." Sulu understated eloquently. "Starfleet decided it was too much of a security risk to let him go home. The family was allowed to visit him at the Starbase, but they were convinced that he needed to come home. That it would have helped him to be with his family."

Sulu frowned slightly, as if he agreed with them. "He'll be okay, Captain. Just give him some time." He said softly. "Excuse me." He turned, and headed for his own quarters, leaving Kirk to stand in the hall and wonder.

Disclaimer: Star Trek does not belong to me, you know, but wouldn't it be nice...


	10. Chapter 10

Chekov sat at his post, glaring at Sulu. The older man steadfastly ignored the boy, going about his business as if unaware of Chekov's attention. Something was up, Kirk knew, but what, he had not the slightest idea.

It wasn't always easy to tell when the two were playing and when they were serious, but right now Kirk was certain Chekov was serious, as was Sulu.

Sulu was ignoring Chekov as if his life depended on it. He hadn't even met his eye as they came on shift, he first, then Chekov, rather than together as they usually did.

And Chekov was trying to talk to him, trying to get his attention, and was getting madder with every minute that passed by without him succeeding.

The boy sat slouched in his seat, and while Kirk knew better by now than to question whether or not Chekov was doing his job, it rankled him to see Chekov sitting there, pouting.

For pouting he was. He was hunched over his console, glaring at Sulu, a scowl darkening his features. Every now and again he would mutter something to Sulu, but it had been no use so far, and Kirk doubted anything would be resolved here, on the bridge.

McCoy came on, took one look at the scene, and shot Kirk an inquiring glance. Kirk shrugged. He had decided he wasn't getting involved in disagreements, real or imagined, between those two anymore. It was a wise decision, he felt.

When the shift ended, Sulu turned the console over and departed quickly, leaving his friend staring after him, his eyes flashing. Then Chekov stalked out behind him, determined, angry, and grumbling under his breath.

"Now I wonder what that was all about?" McCoy muttered under his breath. Kirk merely shrugged, and silently determined he wasn't getting involved in this one. He had already intervened in too many non-incidents between the two.

Kirk didn't see either of the two again until later, as he, McCoy, and Uhura sat eating in the mess hall. He looked up, as was his habit, as the doors came open. Sulu stood hesitantly in the doorway, scanning the room for Chekov, no doubt. When he did not see the boy he relaxed, and went to get some food.

Uhura chuckled knowingly as Sulu sat down, but volunteered nothing else. Sulu shot her a dirty look but said nothing himself. Kirk reminded himself he wasn't getting involved this time.

McCoy, apparently, had not come to the same decision. "Everything okay between you and Chekov?" He drawled, and Uhura let out another giggle.

"We're fine." Sulu replied, sounding a bit surprised. "Why wouldn't we be?"

McCoy just glared at Sulu. "You didn't seem to be on too good of terms earlier." He retorted sharply.

"Oh. Well, we're just fine." Sulu said lightly.

The door opened again, and Kirk saw Uhura grab Sulu by the arm as Chekov came in. "Let me go." Sulu hissed at her frantically.

"Why?" She asked with a smile as Chekov stood as Sulu had before, scanning the room.

"So I can duck under the table." Sulu replied.

"Sorry, sweetheart." Uhura replied. "No can do." She looked up to shout to Chekov. "Pavel! Over here! Come eat with us!"

Chekov grinned, and made his way over. Uhura relinquished her grip on Sulu as Chekov sat down beside him and put an arm around his shoulder. Sighing, Chekov assumed an almost mournful expression.

"Sulu," He said slowly, sadly, "Ve are friends, no?"

"Yes." Sulu agreed slowly, hesitantly.

"Vhen ve vere at Academy, I bring you home to my family, no?"

"Yes." Sulu admitted reluctantly.

"And they accept you as family, no?" He continued, still sounding miserable.

Sulu sighed, but chose not to answer this time. Instead he rolled his eyes.

"My family think wery highly of you, Sulu. You are like brother to me." McCoy rolled _his_ eyes at Chekov's overly dramatic display. Uhura was staring at her plate, trying to hide her smile. Kirk wasn't entirely certain what to think as the boy continued speaking.

"So, vhy, Hikaru, do you insult my family so?"

"I never-" Sulu began, but Chekov cut him off.

"My mother vill think you do not like us." He mourned. "My father vill feel as if he lost his own child. My grandmother-"

Sulu scowled. "Spare me the theatrics, Pavel. Get on with it." He was resigned to whatever was coming.

Chekov looked for a moment as if he would continue. Then he smiled brightly, and held forth a plainly wrapped package that he had been holding in his free hand. "Happy birthday." He said brightly.

Sulu flushed, and scowled even deeper as McCoy laughed. "Today's your birthday, Sulu?"

"Yes." He admitted with a glare. "Not that I wanted people to know." He grumbled.

Uhura laughed. "He doesn't like to make a big deal out of it." She explained, and again Kirk wondered exactly _how much_ his Communications Officer knew.

Chekov shrugged. "Is from everyone. I _had_ to give you." He insisted.

"Yeah, sure." Sulu muttered darkly.

"Well, open it." Uhura said brightly.

Sulu sighed, and carefully unwrapped the present, the smile playing on his features a giveaway that he actually _was_ enjoying himself. He gasped, and turned to stare at Chekov, who was grinning like an idiot.

"How did you-?" Chekov's laughter cut him off.

"Papa found it." He said. "You like?"

Sulu grinned in reply, and held out the gift for the others to see.

It was a book, and a rather old one at that. An antique, probably. _The Three Musketeers._ Kirk chuckled, it was a fitting choice of literature for the helmsman. The Captain could still remember clearly the virus that sent Sulu racing up and down the corridors in his ship with a fencing blade. Judging by the slight flush that colored his face, so did Sulu.

"Thanks." He muttered under his breath, but his eyes were dancing. Chekov shrugged and went to get his own food.

Kirk went back to his own meal, glad that his decision not to intervene had been a wise one. Uhura uttered an amused apology for preventing Sulu's escape, and McCoy, as Kirk often had, wondered about those two.

Author's note: I try not to neglect this fic, as I really like doing it, but sometimes I have trouble coming up with ideas for it. So, if you have any suggestions or ideas that you would like to see written, I would be more than happy to listen to and consider any suggestions. Thank you for reading, and reviewing, and I am glad you have enjoyed it so far.

Disclaimer: Star Trek and such the like are not mine.


	11. Chapter 11

"I did not forget your mother." Chekov clarified yet again, patiently.

"You did, and it hurt her feelings." Sulu replied.

"No, honestly! How could I forget her?" Chekov insisted. "I get her present. It vas supposed to be delivered."

"Uh-huh." Sulu was doubtful.

"How could I forget your mother on Mother's Day? She's almost as close as my own mother." Chekov was agitated now.

"She certainly didn't feel close when she didn't even get a card from you." Sulu continued. "You nearly made her cry."

"I swear it, Sulu. I did get her present. I don't know vhat happen to it!" Chekov was clearly distraught. "I vill have to call her and beg her forgiveness."

Sulu chuckled. "No, it's okay, the package just got delayed in the mail. It arrived two days late."

Chekov scowled at his friend. "You set me up." He complained. "You make me feel bad, and nothing is wrong. Some friend you are!"

Sulu laughed, and the two went back to minding their posts. Kirk let them pick; the sound of the two sniping and joking about one thing or another had become simply another part of the atmosphere on the bridge, and so far it had not interfered with the ability of either to do his job.

Lieutenant O'Reilly showed up to relieve Chekov, who muttered again about his poor choice of a friend as they switched off.

Sulu just laughed. "You still up for a match later?" He asked. Kirk wondered if Sulu had roped Chekov into a fencing match. He hoped the boy was up to it.

"Sure." Chekov nodded, looking back. Something on the Navigation console caught his eye. "Incoming!" He called out, shoving Reilly into the seat and grabbing onto the back of it himself just in time to keep from being thrown across the bridge.

"We're being fired on, Captain." Sulu said calmly, stating the obvious with a note of confusion. And Kirk was himself confused. Who was firing on them? And why?

"Raise shields to maximum." Kirk snapped. "Spock?"

"Shields at maximum." Reilly confirmed as Spock began his report.

"The vessel is Orion in make, Captain, though the weapons have been modified. I would estimate that our shields will hold under this barrage only-"

"Look out!" Reilly cut Spock off as the Navigation console exploded, sending sparks everywhere, and the lights flickered.

Sulu and Reilly recovered quickly, and managed to put out the fire. How much damage had been done, however, was yet to be seen. And they didn't have time for repairs. The vessel was still firing upon them!

"Helm is inoperative, Captain." Sulu reported. They were dead if they couldn't get out of here. Chekov muttered _something _under his breath and darted under the console. He was up and working inside it in less than a minute.

"Anything?" He asked. Sulu checked the console as the Orion vessel began firing again.

"No. Wait, yes!" Sulu exclaimed. "She's sluggish, though."

"Sluggish." Chekov repeated disbelievingly. "Of course she's sluggish!"

Another blast rocked the ship, and Chekov somehow managed to wrap his legs around Sulu's seat and stay in place.

"Don't kick me, please." Chekov called up as he worked.

"We have power, sir." Sulu informed Kirk.

"Excellent. Try to put some distance between them and us, Mister Sulu."

"Aye, Captain." Sulu said as the ship shook again. Communications blew, and Chekov let out a yell and started uttering a steady stream of what Kirk assumed was Russian. "You okay?" Sulu asked. Chekov didn't answer, but continued grumbling. Sulu frowned. "Hey, Pasha, you alright down there?" He sounded worried.

Chekov was silent for a second. "Da, I am fine." He said finally. "Don't demand too much, or she'll blow again."

"How bad is it?" Sulu asked. He was quickly putting the distance between the Enterprise and the other ship.

"Nothing I can't hold together." Chekov replied from below. "I just do not vant my eyebrows burnt off if the thing explodes again. And I have no desire to be electrocuted again. Once vas enough."

As if he weren't trying to evade the coming blasts from the enemy vessel, Sulu laughed. "I _told_ you it wasn't a good idea."

"You said it as if I vould not be able to figure it out, not as if I vould end up with electricity jolting through my body." Chekov argued.

"It wasn't _that_ bad. You're alive, aren't you?" Sulu retorted, barely evading another shot. "She's keeping up with us, Pasha. How much harder can I push it?"

Chekov sighed. "Let me get my fingers out of the way, and-" Another blast rocked the ship. Sulu managed to jerk the Enterprise out of the way and around behind the other vessel.

"Do we have phasers?" Kirk asked.

Chekov growled and shifted slightly. "Ve do now." He replied.

"Fire phasers, Lieutenant!" Kirk ordered. Reilly complied.

The resulting explosion did more damage than the ship's attacks had. Several explosions rocked the bridge as the lights went out. Chekov let out a shriek and jerked, letting loose another stream of Russian before falling silent.

"Pasha?" Sulu was out of his chair and on the floor beside his friend in less than a second. "Pasha. Are you-what happen-Pavel."

"Ow." Kirk heard the younger man say. "That hurt. Wery much."

"Don't move." Sulu sounded worried now.

"I don't think I can." Chekov replied, quietly.

Reilly leaned over to see what was up. "Holy-Captain, you might want to get McCoy up here, fast."

"What happened?" Kirk asked. The fear in Sulu's eyes as he looked up at the Captain sent chills down Kirk's spine. He hit the comm. button "Bridge to sickbay. Bones, get up here."

Sulu's attention was on his friend. "Pasha, you still there?"

Chekov let loose a small chuckle. "Where else vould I be?"

"Stay with me. How're you feeling?" Sulu asked gently.

Chekov didn't answer.

"Pasha? Pasha!"

Chekov groaned. "I am thinking. I am not sure how feel."

"Sheesh." Sulu let out an explosive breath. "So think out loud or something, will you?"

"Sure." Chekov agreed amiably. "I think maybe my whole body hurts. I think. I think maybe I can't really tell. Maybe I can't feel it. I think something bad must have happened if you are so upset." He paused for less than a second. "Are we dead?"

Sulu managed a smile. "No, we're not dead."

"Good. I would not want to spend eternity vith _you_. I think I have a headache. And I'm dizzy." Chekov continued. "And I think it vas not wery nice of you to make me think your mom was upset vith me."

"You're the one who told your Dad the Christmas present I got him was from you." Sulu retorted. He was trying to keep Chekov talking, Kirk realized. Whatever had happened, it was bad.

"He didn't believe me, now did he?" Chekov retorted. "Am I bleeding?"

"Can't you tell?" Sulu asked.

"I just vanted to make sure." Chekov replied defensively. "How much?"

"Not as much as it's going to be when they pull that piece of metal out of your chest." Sulu retorted. "You're lucky. You _should_ be dead."

"Sorry to disappoint you." Chekov replied slowly. His voice had been getting steadily quieter as he and Sulu talked.

Kirk hit the comm. again. "Bones, where are you?" He demanded.

"I'm coming as fast as I can, Jim." McCoy retorted sharply. "I've got people dying down here."

"We've got people dying up here too!" It was Sulu who snapped out the retort, before Kirk could even begin to reply.

"Take it easy, Hikaru." Chekov said softly. "I'm not dead. Yet." Sulu sighed. "Hikaru?" Chekov said weakly.

"Yes?"

"I want you to have my stuff." Chekov said solemnly. "Nyota? Is she here?"

"She's here, Pasha." Sulu assured him.

"Vhere? Nyota?" Uhura shot Kirk a hepless glance as she moved over to kneel beside Sulu.

"I'm here, Pavel." She said.

"Tell," Chekov paused for breath. "Tell…my papa…that all that I own goes to Hikaru. And tell…tell him…" He paused again, taking a deep breath. "Tell him...that Hikaru did not kill me for it."

Uhura rolled her eyes, and Sulu groaned. "Ha." He said sarcastically. "If you weren't injured-"

"I could still take you." Chekov retorted. "Maybe."

"Sure you could." Sulu replied. Kirk wrenched his attention away from the two and forced himself to focus on the other areas in need of his attention. Spock was working on repairing the science station; Uhura had returned to work on hers. Reilly was helping where he could; he didn't want to mess with his station while Chekov was still under there. Sulu and Chekov continued their banter as if it weren't a life or death situation they were in.

"I can't feel my arm. Is it still there?" Chekov asked.

"Yeah." Sulu confirmed. "Does your face hurt?" He asked after a moment.

"My face? No. Vhy?" Chekov's response was slow, confused.

"Because it's killing me." Sulu replied.

"Hee hee." Chekov replied unenthusiastically. "You crack me silly."

"You're mangling your English again." Sulu said softly.

"You don't speak Russian."

"I speak some."

"Not much."

"I speak enough."

"Da," Chekov agreed, "enough to tell my father he has face of goat."

"_You_ said it meant I was honored to make his acquaintance." Sulu retorted.

McCoy burst in on the scene then, and nearly shoved Sulu out of his way in his hurry. The brief flash of anger in the helmsman's eyes made Kirk doubt if he wanted to get on Sulu's bad side.

"Good heavens, son!" McCoy said to Chekov. "You should be dead, you know that?"

"So I hear." Chekov managed. "Sorry I disappoint you."

"I need to get him to sickbay." McCoy said. "There's not much I can do for him here."

Kirk nodded. McCoy called to sickbay for help, and they quickly relocated Chekov to sickbay. Sulu watched him go before sliding under Chekov's abandoned spot and throwing himself into repairing the console.

"Mister Sulu." Kirk said.

"I'm fine, sir."

"I didn't ask how you were, Sulu." Kirk said, and Sulu paused. "You've been through quite a bit of stress. If you need someone to relieve you-"

"Thank you, Captain, but I'd rather stay here. I'm fine." Sulu cut Kirk off, and went back to work.

Uhura had come up behind Kirk. "McCoy won't let him in sickbay yet, Captain. He'll just sit and worry if he doesn't have something to distract him." She said quietly.

Kirk nodded. She was right. Sulu would worry about his friend until he was certain he was okay. At least here he could do something to relieve the frustration of not being able to be there.

Author's Note: Thanks to all who reviewed. Thank you to Deinde and Jedi Ani Unduli for your suggestions. Again, if any of my readers have any ideas for future chapters that they would like to see, I would be more than happy to hear them. Thanks!

Disclaimer: Star Trek does not belong to me.


	12. Chapter 12

McCoy scowled at Kirk as he entered sickbay. Without a word, he grabbed the Captain and dragged him into the other room, where he could speak without being overheard. Once inside, he spun around to glare at Kirk.

Bemused, Kirk spread his arms in surrender. "What is it, Bones?" He asked, wondering why the doctor was in such a foul mood. Last Kirk had heard, Chekov was stable, and would be fine, after a couple days of rest. If Chekov was okay, then what was the problem?

McCoy jabbed a finger towards sickbay. "It's Sulu." He growled. "He's been here since he went off duty, and he won't leave. I keep telling him Chekov probably won't wake up for at _least_ a couple of hours, but he just nods and says he'll wait. The man's exhausted, but he refuses to leave.

Kirk was nowhere near as surprised as he would have been a few weeks ago. "From what I've seen, they're pretty close, Bones. Sulu's probably worried sick."

McCoy sighed. "I know." He said, his tone somewhat softer. "But Chekov is going to be fine. Probably a bit dazed and confused when he wakes up, certainly weak, but he _is_ going to be alright." McCoy shook his head. "Lucky son of a gun." He laughed. "He should be dead, Jim. Either by electrocution or that piece of metal that tried to run him through." A chill ran down Kirk's spine. Chekov _had_ been lucky. "And I'll tell you this, too. If he'd lost consciousness before we got there, it'd been over."

"You have Sulu to thank for _that_." Kirk reminded the doctor. "Let him stay."

"Alright. Fine." McCoy grumbled. "But at least _try_ to get him to go get some rest. Even if it's only an hour."

"Okay, Bones." Kirk agreed, although he doubted anything short of a direct order would budge Sulu. He stepped through the door and into sickbay, but stopped short as Sulu spoke.

"Hey." The man said softly. Chekov was stirring, awake. He looked around quickly, almost nervously, and tried to sit up. Sulu gently put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back down. "Bad idea."

Chekov allowed himself to be pushed back down. He swallowed. "Hikaru?" He said nervously.

"I'm here, Pasha." Sulu replied. He kept his voice level, trying to calm his friend.

"Da." Chekov agreed absently. More urgently he continued. "Где я?"

"Sickbay." Sulu replied. "English, Pasha."

Chekov nodded. "Что случилось?"

"You were injured. Do you remember that?" Chekov nodded and winced as Sulu continued. "We kept you awake until Doctor McCoy could get to you. You passed out from blood loss right as they got you on one of the beds." He gave the younger man a tight smile. "You're very lucky, you know. You-"

Chekov cut him off. "Я знаю. Я знаю. Я должен быть мертв. Каждое держит сказать то. Я огорченн разочаровать каждое.?"

Sulu frowned. "Английско, Pasha." He said gently.

After about a second, Chekov smiled sheepishly. "Sorry." He said slowly.

"I-" He hesitated, searching. "I cannot think. Is difficult. Think doctor has me on some." He paused for another moment. "Drugs." He finished lamely. "Am tired." He said softly.

"I'm not surprised." Sulu replied. He looked pretty tired himself.

Chekov tried to stifle a yawn. "How long-?" He let the question hang.

"You've been out for about seventeen hours now." Sulu told him gently. Chekov started to ask another question, but Sulu seemed to already know what he was going to ask. "fifteen." He said quickly.

Chekov exploded. "Что?" He demanded, trying to sit up. Sulu had to move quickly to stop him. "Что неправильно с вами? Вы должны находиться в кровати! Вы принимаете двойной перенос и после этого приходите здесь и докучаете мне? Что вы думаете?"

Sulu waited patiently for his friend to finish shouting. When Chekov was done, Sulu leaned forward to look him in the eye.

"I was worried. They didn't know if you were going to make it." He said, his voice low. He straightened up as he continued. "And it was a good thing I was here. Neither the Captain nor Doctor McCoy speak Russian."

Chekov rolled his eyes. "You do not speak Russian." He grumbled.

"I've gotten pretty good at figuring out what _you're_ saying over the years." Sulu pointed out. Chekov glowered. "Don't sulk." Sulu scolded. "You know it's true."

"Da, is true." Chekov reluctantly admitted. "Now, I awake. Am going back to sleep." He said slowly, his focus wandering. "You go get rest, Sulu. I mean it." He tried to sound commanding, but another yawn ruined the effect. "Go. I am here."

Sulu nodded, and clasped a hand on Chekov's shoulder. "Alright, I'm going. You get some rest too." Chekov nodded, and Sulu got up to leave. At the door he paused. "I'm glad you're okay." He said.

Chekov rolled his eyes again. "Then do me favor. Tell Papa I live." He said with a weak chuckle. Sulu laughed as well, and continued out the door. "Spah-see-boh." Chekov called after his friend.

After Sulu left Chekov turned his attention on Kirk. "Keptin." He said, sounding tired. Kirk wondered if Chekov had known he was there all this time.

"Good to see you're still alive." Kirk said. Chekov let out a long, exasperated sigh, and Kirk tried unsuccessfully to stifle a chuckle.

"Sulu worry too much." Chekov grumbled. "Doctor, too." His eyes were half closed, though, showing how tired the young man truly was.

"Well, they had quite a scare." Kirk pointed out gently.

Chekov shifted uncomfortably. "Da, Yah know." He agreed.

Kirk hesitated. "Chekov-"

"Sorry." He said quickly. "_Da_ is yes." Kirk nodded. He had picked up on that one. "_Yah_ is I. Is difficult now. Cannot think vell."

"Completely understandable, Ensign." Kirk told the boy. He hesitated, but Chekov, as out of it as he was, noticed.

"Keptin?" He asked.

"I was just wondering." He said reluctantly.

"Da?"

"As Sulu was leaving. You said something to him. Spah-" Kirk faltered, not sure of the word.

"Spah-see-boh" Chekov said slowly, enunciating each syllable. "It means thank you."

"Spah-see-boh." Kirk repeated. Chekov nodded, and practically beamed at him.

"Oh-chen khoh-roh-shoh." He said brightly. "Wery good."

Kirk frowned, but tried the words out anyway. "Oh-chen khoh-roh-shoh?" He repeated.

"Da." Chekov replied enthusiastically, giving Kirk a huge smile.

Kirk smiled back uncertainly, but was relieved when McCoy came in to run him off. He wasn't sure why Chekov had reacted to what he had like that. "Get some rest, Ensign." He said as McCoy ushered him out.

He shook his head slowly as he headed for his quarters. Here was something else about the young man that puzzled him, and something he likely was not going to find out anytime soon.

At least Chekov was on the mend.

Disclaimer: Star Trek does not belong to me.


	13. Chapter 13

Chekov was out of Sickbay a week later, though McCoy insisted he was _not_ to go overexerting himself, and certainly not ready to go back on duty yet.

"You nearly _died_." McCoy growled at the boy. "Don't go overdoing it."

Chekov nodded solemnly, his eyes betraying that he was only humoring the doctor, which only made McCoy all the angrier.

"Don't worry, I'll keep an eye on him." Sulu promised, which elicited a glare from Chekov in his direction.

"Traitor." Chekov grumbled. Sulu merely chuckled and shrugged in reply, which seemed to irritate the Ensign all the more as he fell into a sulk, sinking into a slouch as a pout formed on his face. He still allowed Sulu to escort him out of sickbay, however.

McCoy shook his head. "At least Sulu will keep an eye on him." He said with a sigh.

"I thought you said he was healed." Kirk said.

"I did." McCoy confirmed. "But that doesn't erase the amount of blood he lost, or how bad things were. He's healed, but he'll still tire easily, and it would be all too easy for someone as active as Chekov normally is to overexert himself."

"And you think Sulu will keep that from happening?" Kirk asked.

"I think he'll keep it from happening as much." McCoy clarified. "And I think that at least he'll be there when it _does_ happen, and be able to help." He shook his head. "It beats me, Jim."

"What?" Kirk asked. Something was on the doctor's mind, but Kirk wasn't sure what.

McCoy sighed. "Those two. They pick and fight and you get the idea that they can't stand each other, then something like this happens and they surprise you. You'd think they were brothers. Or had grown up together. Something. And I'll tell you something else, Jim."

"Oh?" Kirk waited patiently for the doctor to continue, slightly amused by the whole affair. He could think of another pair on the Enterprise that acted much like Chekov and Sulu, and had been at it considerably longer, though he doubted McCoy would appreciate the comparison.

Oblivious to Kirk's thoughts, McCoy continued. "Yeah. You remember back when Chekov first joined us, and Sulu kept talking about his friends from the Academy?"

"You mean the one they thought couldn't speak English?" Kirk asked.

McCoy nodded. "And the one that they thought ate too much." He added. "I think he was talking about Chekov himself."

Kirk laughed. "Then why wouldn't he just say so?" He asked. McCoy shrugged.

"I don't know. But I seem to remember, you were asking Sulu and Uhura if they had heard anything about him, and when you mentioned his name Sulu seemed kind of lost in his own thoughts."

Kirk frowned at the doctor. "But it doesn't make sense for him not to speak up. Why not say he knew Chekov? Why not admit it was Chekov he was talking about?"

McCoy shrugged again. "Why do those two do anything they do?" He asked.

Kirk didn't have an answer for that. It was doubtful, knowing those two, that he ever would.

He found them in the rec room later, sitting at one of the tables. Chekov was leaned back, his eyes nearly closed, and Sulu was watching him from behind several sheets of actual paper. As Sulu read its contents to Chekov, Kirk realized it was an old style correspondence.

"We were delighted to receive your letter. You are, of course, fiercely missed at home. As, apparently, is Pavel in both our family and his own.

"It would seem that Pavel may have mentioned to his family that we might be missing the two of you as much as they were, for it had only been a day or so after we received your letter that we received a letter from Andre himself, suggesting that our families get together and celebrate."

Chekov let out a giggle, and Sulu paused long enough to glare at him before continuing. "When I asked what we were celebrating, his cheerful reply was 'That we finally managed to get rid of our sons, of course. And by sending them off into space, no less.'

"All joking aside, it was nice to meet Pavel's family. We swapped stories, of course, enough that both of you would have been thoroughly embarrassed had you been there."

Sulu turned red, and Chekov burst out laughing. "I knew it vould be a bad idea to let them get together." Chekov declared.

"I'm surprised your family didn't scare mine away for good." Sulu retorted, and Chekov shot his friend an affronted look.

"They didn't scare _you_ off." He insisted.

"I had already been subjected to _you." _ Sulu defended himself.

Kirk smiled and cleared his throat, gaining himself their attention. "Chekov. How are you?" He asked easily.

Chekov glowered at his friend. "Fine. Or I vould be if-"

Sulu cut him off. "If I left you alone, you'd be collapsed in some corridor instead of sulking here." He leaned across the table towards Chekov. "I had to practically drag you to the table here as it is." He reminded the younger man sternly.

Chekov scowled. "I could have made it here just fine." He insisted, though Sulu looked far from convinced. "I vould have just fine, Keptin." He insisted, this time addressing Kirk.

"Have a seat." Sulu offered, and Kirk did so, though he felt awkward as he did, as if he were intruding on something.

"Letter from home." Chekov explained, as if he had read Kirk's mind. "I didn't vant to hear any more about Sulu's family anyvay."

"I was reading about your family too, you know." Sulu pointed out.

"Da." Chekov agreed. "I don't mind that part."

Kirk sat uncomfortably for a minute as silence settle over the table. The two men seemed fine with it, it seemed, or maybe they were simply waiting for Kirk to say something.

He cleared his throat. "So may I ask exactly how you two gentlemen know each other?" He said, scrambling for something to break the silence. He _was_ curious, though.

Sulu's laughter broke the silence. "The kid got into a fight his first year, before classes had even started up. Decked this other kid twice his size."

"Blonde know-it-all. He vas getting on everyone's nerves." Chekov supplied. Then he looked at Sulu. "Know-it-all?" He repeated uncertainly.

"Sure, Pavel." Sulu explained tolerantly. "Someone who thinks they know everything, and that they're smarter than everyone else. Know-it-all. Anyway," he continued, "he comes in speaking horrible English, so the instructors of course are all worried about that, and decide he needs someone to keep an eye on him."

"You." Kirk guessed. Chekov grinned, Sulu nodded.

"So we became roommates, drove each other nearly insane, then realized we actually liked each other. Been friends ever since."

Kirk hesitated for a minute, but he really _did_ want to know. And they were, after all, apparently in the mood to actually answer questions today. "Your Academy friend you kept mentioning, Sulu…" Kirk trailed off as the glare Chekov shot at Sulu answered his question quite plainly.

"I didn't mention any names!" Sulu protested. "I was trying to help."

"Can take care of myself." Chekov muttered darkly. Silence fell once more as Chekov fell into a sulk. Kirk found the silence oppressive, and found himelf looking for something else to ask the two.

Again, Kirk hesitated. "You don't have to answer this if you don't want, Chekov, but I was curious. Exactly how well _do _you speak English?"

Chekov looked thoughtful for a few seconds. "As well as I need to." He said then, no trace of his normally thick accent in his words. He sounded as if he had been speaking English all his life. Kirk stared, and Chekov resumed his normal speech. "But is easier to speak this vay. And it is who I am."

"And when he comes back from visiting the family sometimes it takes him a while to get back into the habit of speaking so people can understand him." Sulu added. That, of course, explained many of the misunderstandings from Chekov's early days on board, though probably not, Kirk realized, all of them.

"You speak Russian?" Kirk asked Sulu, who reddened slightly.

"A little. Badly. But I can understand most of what he says pretty well by now." He replied. "My accent is terrible, I've been told. My Russian is about the same as Chekov's Japanese."

This time it was Chekov who seemed to hesitate. Kirk waited, wondering what would cause such uncertainty. "I hear you play chess, Captain? Mister Spock as vell?"

Kirk nodded. "I do, Ensign. Spock as well." If he was bothered by Kirk's use of his rank rather than his name, Chekov didn't show it, though Sulu had certainly noticed. "Do you play?" He asked.

"Vhen I can find a partner. Sulu von't play vith me." The young man sighed dramatically. "I vas vondering if you might be able to suggest someone, actually."

This would be an excellent opportunity to get to know more about the young man, Kirk realized. "I would certainly be glad to match you, if you'd like, Ensign. I don't know about Mister Spock, but I could ask if he would be averse to it."

"Spa-see-boh, Captain." Chekov replied. "I vould appreciate it.

Kirk smiled. "You're welcome." He replied.

"Paz-hal-stah" Chekov said.

"Pardon?" Kirk replied, confused.

"Paz-hal-stah." Chekov repeated. "Means 'you're velcome."

"Paz-hal-stah." Kirk repeated carefully, adding that to the mental list of other Russian words Chekov tended to use. Da, _yes. _Nyet, _no._ Spa-see-boh, _thank you._ And now, Paz-hal-sta, _you're welcome._

Again Kirk was rewarded with a smile and an odd gleam in Chekov's eye. It was, however, quickly pushed from his thoughts as Sulu procured a chessboard, and Kirk began his first match against his Chief Navigator.

Disclaimer: Star Trek does not belong to me.

Author's note: Sorry it took so long to update. I have been exceedingly busy with school and life and everything in general. I am going to _try _(no promises) to update this and another fic once a week, though it may be just a short chapter at times. I beg your indulgance, and am flattered that you guys enjoy my stories to the point that you encourage me not to neglect them. It means a lot to me. Anyway, here's this, sorry for the wait, I'll try to do better.


	14. Chapter 14

"I don't need a babysitter." Kirk's Chief Navigator growled at Sulu.

Sulu wasn't intimidated. "Quit whining."

Chekov folded his arms over his chest, then winced. His hand went up to rub his shoulder. "I'm fine." He insisted.

"Uh-huh." Sulu replied as he watched the younger man massage his still stiff shoulder.

Chekov noticed, and stopped, instead choosing to glare at his friend. "Is embarrassing." He protested.

Sulu sighed. "Look, I have to go on duty. You aren't ready to go back on duty yourself, you don't like sickbay, and I don't want to have to spend my shift wondering if you're doing anything stupid."

"But the Keptin?" Chekov demanded.

Sulu shrugged. "Uhura's on shift too, or I would have asked her." He grinned mockingly at the other man. "Would you prefer Spock?"

Chekov thought about it. "Yes." He replied.

Sulu's smile faded. "Forget about it. You'd probably convince him to let you help with one of his research projects."

Chekov tried to look innocent, but the glint in his eyes betrayed him. He scowled. "I don't like you."

"Ha." Sulu retorted. "I was wondering what was taking you so long." Chekov remained silent, glowering. Sulu turned to Kirk. "Thanks. I know it's not really something a Captain does, but-"

Kirk cut him off. "A Captain watches out for his crew, Mister Sulu." He assured the Helmsman hoping he sounded more confident than he felt.

Chekov decided to glare at the floor.

"Behave." Sulu told the younger man. He turned and left for his shift, leaving Kirk alone with Chekov and uncertain as to exactly what he was supposed to be doing.

"Keep an eye on him. Make sure he doesn't overdo it. He's still supposed to be resting." Sulu had said. "Just make sure he doesn't do anything stupid." Kirk wasn't entirely sure just what that entailed. He sighed as Sulu disappeared.

Chekov, for his part, continued to glare at the floor. He was sitting on the bed in his quarters and seemed content to stay there, for now at any rate, and pout.

Kirk was seated at Chekov's desk. He looked around the room, as if the answer to his question might be written somewhere, perhaps on the wall or in one of Chekov's books.

Kirk walked over to the bookshelf. Many of the books were in Russian, but a few were in English, and there was a Japanese dictionary as well. "You speak Japanese?" Kirk asked.

Chekov scowled. "Sulu just left." He informed his Captain. "I'm _Russian_, remember?"

"Is this your room, or Sulu's?" Kirk asked reasonably. If Chekov wanted to sulk, that was fine with him, but he wasn't going to let the boy get under his skin.

"Mine." Chekov replied shortly. "Vhy?"

"Because this dictionary is in your room, then. Which means, unless you stole it, that it's yours." Kirk said easily.

Chekov shrugged. "Is mine." He admitted. Before Kirk could ask, he continued, "I practiced my English, he practiced his Japanese, my family spoke Russian. Sulu has Russian dictionary in _his_ room."

"So you two learned some of all three." Kirk suggested.

"A little bit." Chekov agreed. "Enough to insult each other, or to talk between ourselves if ve didn't vant anyone listening."

"Like a code?" Kirk asked. Chekov nodded.

"Da." He agreed. "Like a code. No one knew vhat ve vere saying. Ve vere bored one day, and it just happened. Ve took all three, Russian, English, Japanese, and used them together, mixing up different vords from different languages."

It was a useful bit of information. Or information that might one day prove useful. Kirk stored it away for future reference.

In the meantime, he needed something else to distract the young ensign. "Care for another chess match?" He asked. "Or are you still smarting from the last one?"

Chekov scoffed. "If you vant, ve can play, but don't expect me to take it easy on you this time." He stood and retrieved a board from his closet, and quickly set up the pieces.

Disclaimer: Star Trek does not belong to me.


	15. Chapter 15

Kirk eyed the silvery stuff warily, but if Chekov were aware that he had strands of unknown metallic substance clinging to the back of his shirt and lower pant leg, he gave no indication of it. Nor did it seem to cause him any discomfort.

Whatever it was, it seemed harmless, though it also seemed to move in some mysterious fashion, because when Kirk looked, there was a strand of the same stuff clinging to the collar of Sulu's shirt. Sulu seemed unaware and unbothered by it as well, reinforcing its apparent harmlessness.

Still, Kirk had seen too many 'obviously harmless' entities that were in reality anything but to dismiss these odd silvery objects. So he watched his helm team apprehensively, waiting for something to happen even as he hoped nothing would.

The shift went by, and the strange silvery stuff stayed where it was, almost as if it sensed Kirk's scrutiny, as if it were merely biding its time, waiting for an opportunity to strike.

Kirk wondered again if he should simply say something and get it over with. He hesitated; he had no wish to cause unnecessary alarm in his helm team. Both Chekov and Sulu seemed rather tired today, as if they had not gotten enough sleep of late, and last thing he wanted to do was to sound a false alarm when both were obviously worn out.

Not that they were too tired to do their jobs properly, Kirk reflected. He had seen Sulu operate without sleep during a few emergencies, and the Helmsman still flew better than most in the fleet did on a full night's rest. Chekov he still wasn't sure about, as far as that went, but he still seemed alert as usual. Nonetheless, there was no sense in bringing up trouble that might or might not actually exist.

So he waited. The hours seemed to crawl by while Kirk watched the strange silvery strands out of the corner of his eye. Twice Chekov caught him staring, but had said nothing. Now he seemed slightly on edge, as if waiting for some reprimand from his Captain. Sulu had returned Kirk's intense scrutiny with a puzzled glance, then promptly forgotten the whole incident. It seemed as if the strange objects would go unnoticed by Chekov or Sulu or anyone else.

Then Uhura had glanced in Chekov's direction and promptly burst into a fit of laughter. Kirk watched in confusion as the Navigator drew himself up and regarded her with polite bewilderment tinged with concern. Sulu turned towards Uhura as well, but was distracted by the silver strand on the back of Chekov's shirt.

Sulu groaned and reached forward. Before Kirk could advise against it, Sulu reached forward and pulled it from Chekov's shirt. It seemed to be drawn towards the Helmsman, and clung to his arm.

"Vhat?" Chekov demanded, turning from Uhura, who was still laughing, to see what Sulu was doing. He spied the strange stuff that seemed to cling to the other man and his eyes went wide with horror. He turned bright red and buried his head in his hands. Sulu's laughter joined Uhura's.

"Is not funny." Chekov protested shame-facedly. "I thought I got rid of it all."

Uhura managed to gain enough self-control to shake her head. "Once you get it, you never get rid of it all." She informed him. She stepped over and knelt to pull the other piece from his pant leg. "Here's another." She said as it also seemed to cling to the arm of its captor. Chekov let loose a mournful sigh, and Sulu snorted.

"You've got it too, you know." Chekov informed his friend. "There. On your collar."

Sulu stopped laughing. He now also looked stricken as he reached to seize the other piece. Uhura couldn't stifle her laughter any more and again went into a fit.

"This vas _your_ idea." Chekov snarled. "Let's get some, it'll be great. You didn't mention the stuff stuck to everything!" He glared at the older man.

Sulu shrugged. "I forgot. It's been years."

Chekov growled under his breath. And I have this stuff in my quarters. It'll be everywhere!" He proclaimed indignantly. "I'll never get rid of it."

Sulu grinned. "That's why we did it in your room." He told Chekov smugly. Chekov glared back at him before turning to grumble under his breath at his console.

Kirk watched the whole scene play out, and was dismayed to realize that he still had no idea what the menacing stuff was. As Uhura headed back to her station, he stopped her. "Lieutenant," he called.

"Yes, Captain?" She asked, a sparkle still in her eyes.

"What…exactly," Kirk asked, "is that stuff?"

Uhura balked. "I told them not to do it, Captain." She said hesitantly. "That it would only be a mess. They wouldn't listen-"

Kirk interrupted. "I just want to know what it is, Uhura."

"Oh." Uhura blinked. "Why it's tinsel, Captain?"

Kirk frowned. "Tinsel?" He repeated.

Uhura nodded. "Yes, tinsel. You use it to decorate Christmas trees, sir."

"Tinsel." He said once more in disbelief.

Sulu nodded in agreement. "We were decorating Chekov's tree." He explained.

"His tree?" Kirk repeated. Where had he gotten a Christmas tree?

"Is not real." Chekov added a bit awkwardly.

"He got it when they wouldn't let him decorate a real one at the Academy." Sulu continued. "He didn't care much for a plastic tree, but it was better than nothing."

"I think it's beautiful." Uhura declared. "You should see it."

"Is nothing." Chekov told her. "You come home vith me, see vhat a real Christmas tree looks like."

"His family does do an amazing tree." Sulu agreed. "But Chekov's tree isn't bad. You should see it sometime."

Kirk thought about it. "Not if it involves going anywhere near that tinsel." He decided.

Disclaimer: Star Trek does not belong to me.


	16. Chapter 16

"Chekov what?" Kirk demanded acidly. Sulu shifted uncomfortably, and refused to meet his Captain's eyes.

"He's been arrested." Sulu repeated, his voice nearly a whisper.

Kirk couldn't believe his ears. "Arrested." He echoed. Sulu nodded. "How? Why?"

Sulu sighed. "We were at a bar." He admitted reluctantly. Kirk wasn't sure why, it wasn't as if none of the senior bridge crew drank, and since the two had been on shore leave, there was no reason they shouldn't have been able to relax as they saw fit.

"And?" Kirk pressed, wanting to get to the bottom of this. Sulu almost flinched. Kirk noted that the man didn't seem particularly drunk.

"There was this girl." He added. Kirk resigned himself to the realization that he was going to have to drag this out of Sulu a piece at a time.

"And?"

Sulu shrugged. "And she was pretty, and Chekov talked to her, and she joined us for a drink."

"And?" Kirk demanded when he fell silent again.

"And she stayed. And I got up and left them for a minute, and when I returned her husband was there."

Kirk groaned. "And a fight ensued, is that it?"

"Well, Chekov apologized, explained that all they did was talk, and she got up to go with her husband."

"And?"

"And then Chekov hit him."

"And security was called, and the two were arrested for being involved in a barfight." Kirk guessed. Sulu nodded. He sighed. "Come on, then. Let's go straighten this out." Chekov was going to be in serious trouble for this one.

Chekov staggered to his feet and eyed his Captain blearily. "Privyet, Keptin." He tried to pull himself to attention, but couldn't quite manage it. Kirk scowled at him.

"You do realize you represent the fleet even when you're off duty, Mister Chekov?" Chekov winced and blinked bemusedly.

"Aye, Keptin." He replied thickly, weaving unsteadily. He seemed to be having trouble standing up.

"And you realize that however much alcohol you've consumed, that still applies?"

He nodded; the action nearly caused him to fall over. "Da." He confirmed.

"Come on." Sulu stepped forward then, somehow sensing that his friend was no longer capable of supporting himself. "The Captain's sprung you."

"Dat vas nice of him." Chekov replied as Sulu pulled the man's arm over his shoulder and began walking him out of the cell. "Did you tell him?"

"No." Sulu replied. "Security called him."

"Oh." Kirk wasn't sure what else to say as Sulu practically carried the man down the hall. Chekov apparently was incapable of walking himself. "Vait." He lurched towards one of the cells, but Sulu didn't let him get very far. "You're filth!" He screamed at the rather large man sprawled inside. "Trash! Garbage! You should be-" Whatever he had been going to say was cut off as Sulu clamped his hand over the younger man's mouth.

"Let it go." Sulu advised. "You aren't making things any easier on yourself."

"Mmmhhhhhffffwwwwwwa." Kirk wasn't sure if Chekov was still trying to insult the man or was trying to reason with Sulu; it didn't matter to Kirk. He just wanted this to be over.

"I ought to throw you in the brig." He grumbled. Chekov lurched; Sulu nearly dropped him.

"Mmwafume?" Chekov mumbled; Sulu still hadn't uncovered his mouth.

Kirk didn't answer. He wanted to get back to the ship as soon as possible. He did _not_ enjoy playing 'designated driver,' and was disappointed to find such a flaw in his Chief Navigator. He stifled a growl and hoped they could get the Ensign back to his quarters without incident.

He practically fell into the seat in front of his computer. Sulu left him there and headed for the bathroom. "Don't fall off!" He called back to the other man.

Chekov blinked. "Okay!" He called back. Kirk turned, prepared to leave him to deal with the consequences of his actions, already dreading the report he would have to fill out on this.

_Stay._ Sulu mouthed as he reappeared. Kirk frowned, but the helmsman looked worried. If the two had been in the Academy together, Kirk reflected, then Sulu knew Chekov's habits. If he were actually worried, something might be wrong. Reluctantly, Kirk stayed.

"So?" Sulu asked, dumping a glass of water on his head.

"Aah!" Chekov jerked. "Vhat?"

"You're drunk." Sulu replied calmly.

Chekov glared at him, or tried to, but he couldn't quite pull it off. "Not wery." He informed the other man.

"Oh?" Sulu was unconvinced. "Do I need to send for McCoy?"

"No!" Chekov said, a little too vehemently. "Is bad enough already. Keptin's gonna kill me."

"Gonna?" Sulu asked. "Gonna?"

"Yup." Chekov drawled in his best cowboy impression. "I reckon he's gonna be pretty upset with me if he ain't already, compadre."

Sulu groaned. "John Wayne you are not." He said. "Seriously, though. How much did you drink?"

"You know how much I drank." Chekov replied. "Just enough that I forgot he vas bigger than me."

Sulu glared at his friend. "So your plan was to simply hit him and leave?"

Chekov thought for a minute. "Da."

Sulu sighed. "But why'd you hit him in the first place, Pavel?"

Chekov's eyes flashed. "He call her a-"

Sulu cut him off. "If he called her something that made you angry enough to start a fight with him in a bar while on shore leave, I really don't want to know what it was."

Chekov scowled. "He beat her too. She had bruises on her arms."

"I didn't catch that." Sulu said softly. "Is that why you let her stay?"

Chekov nodded. "She vas frightened." Sulu sighed.

"So he knocked you silly." He commented. "Do I need to get the Doctor?"

"No." Chekov all but snarled. "I'm not dying, so leave him out of it." He was absently picking at his left arm; Kirk winced as he realized the man was picking pieces of glass out of it.

"Here." Sulu said, moving to help. "My hands aren't shaking."

"You just vant to cause me pain." Chekov complained as Sulu bent over him.

Kirk sighed. "Chekov-" He had been mistaken here, wrong about this young man. He owed Chekov an apology.

Chekov flashed him a brilliant, if not entirely sober, smile. "I'm fine, Sulu vorry to much. You don't hafe to stay and chaperone. Oww." He turned to glare at Sulu. "Dat hurt."

Sulu rolled his eyes. "Don't be such a baby." Chekov's response was to slouch in his seat; he was starting to sulk.

"I'm not." He argued.

"Are too."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Are not." Kirk decided Sulu had everything under control. He also decided it would be best to leave quietly before one of them stuck his tongue out at the other.

Disclaimer: Star Trek does not belong to me.


	17. Chapter 17

McCoy chuckled as he and Kirk joined the crew for breakfast. "What's the matter, son? Too much shore-leave?"

Chekov, forehead resting on the table beside his breakfast, only groaned in reply. Uhura shot him a sympathetic glance. "Everyone overdoes it now and then, Doctor." She defended the Ensign.

Kirk didn't comment, but looked around for Sulu, almost certain the older man would not be far from his friend, not after last night.

Sure enough, Sulu was here. He sat down beside Chekov and gently placed a steaming cup on the table. "Here." He said. "Drink this."

"I don't like coffee." The man whined into the table.

"Drink it anyway." Sulu retorted. Uhura gave him a look, which he returned with a reassuring smile.

"I don't vant to." The boy protested pitifully. "I don't like it, Hikaru."

"Then you shouldn't have gotten into the Vodka after I left." Kirk nearly choked. Chekov had seemed drunk enough before he had left last night; the last thing he would have expected was for Chekov to get _more_ inebriated.

"My head hurt." Chekov protested. "My arm hurt. My shoulder hurt. It felt like that time you convinced me to play football."

"As I recall you thought Vodka was a better solution than having your injuries treated then too." Sulu replied drily. "Drink it."

"You're evil." Chekov accused, dragging himself into a sitting position and grabbing the cup. Uhura had to stifle a gasp as she caught sight of the bruises and cuts on his face, further testament to last night's altercation. Chekov took a drink, started to shudder, then stopped.

"That's tea." He said, staring at it.

Sulu snorted. "Of course it's tea." He replied.

"Did my mother send you that?" Chekov asked, still eyeing the cup.

"Yes." Sulu replied. "When she heard I was going to be on the same ship as her idiot son."

"She didn't call me an idiot." Chekov grumbled, taking another tentative sip of the tea.

Sulu didn't answer, both of them slipped back into silence. McCoy took the opportunity to interrogate Chekov. "What's wrong with your arm?" He asked.

Chekov swore at his friend. "You did that on purpose." He accused.

"I have to admit I was hoping he would catch that." Sulu didn't defend himself.

"Let me see." McCoy ordered, and Chekov didn't have the energy to argue. "You're paying a visit to sickbay." McCoy informed him. "Let's go."

Chekov grumbled under his breath, but staggered to his feet as McCoy also stood. He limped out of the mess hall after the Doctor, shooting accusing glances back at Sulu as he went.

Sulu merely smiled as he watched the younger man go. He gave a sigh of relief as the door closed behind them. "Well that was easier than I expected." He said to Kirk.

Uhura leaned forward. "A little too much shore leave?" She asked skeptically.

"Bar fight." Sulu replied. "Chekov forgot the other guy was bigger than he was." Uhura giggled, then leaned in closer to Sulu, looking about as if for eavesdroppers before she spoke softly, quietly.

"His girlfriend is in my quarters."

"What?" Sulu stared at her.

"She was looking for Chekov. She was frightened. I told her I was a friend, and that I didn't know where he was, and that she could stay there for the night if she needed to. I went to check his quarters last night, but there was no answer.

"Vodka." Sulu supplied.

"There wasn't any answer in yours either." She continued.

"Vodka." Sulu repeated. She gave him a look. "I can't drink the stuff." He explained. "It knocks me right out."

She didn't ask why he was drinking it. "Do you want to talk to her, or should I wait for Chekov?"

"Wait for Pavel. I don't think she was very comfortable around me." Sulu replied. "But make sure I'm there when you tell him." He added, and Kirk thought he looked worried.

If Uhura was worried, it didn't show. She simply nodded. "I'll do that. You two try to stay out of trouble."

Sulu laughed. "I haven't been able to do that since I met the guy." He said. "But we'll try."

"Yes, well I suppose that's the most I can expect from you." Uhura conceded ruefully.

Disclaimer: Star Trek does not belong to me.


	18. Chapter 18

Kirk returned the Commodore's steely gaze. "I don't know where he would be if he isn't in his quarters, Commodore, but I doubt he was out terrorizing this man as you say." He doubted even as he said it.

Where was Chekov? Had he really been so stupid as to mess with the man a second time? To attack and threaten him? Kirk pushed back the nagging thought that maybe he had been trying to kill the man, to get him to permanently leave this girl alone.

"He said there were two of them." The Commodore reminded Kirk. _Sulu_, he thought. Why would Sulu have helped him? Surely he had more sense than that.

They were both in serious trouble. Kirk didn't doubt it had been them, though he couldn't fathom why. The problem was, the man they had attacked claimed it was them. Knew them from the bar. They were caught.

"Does he have any close friends?" The Commodore asked. "Someone who might have been helping him?"

Kirk sighed. "Sulu might know where he is." He said. There wasn't anything he could do. His hands were tied in this. "But I doubt he would do something like this, even if Chekov _were_ involved." It was the truth; Kirk didn't doubt the statement even as he knew that was probably what had happened.

Sulu's quarters were also empty. The Commodore shook his head. "They probably panicked. Ran."

Kirk frowned. Then the idea occurred to him. It was desperation, of course, but it was an idea all the same. Maybe, just maybe, Uhura would know where they were, and it would turn out this was all just a misunderstanding.

Kirk doubted it, but it was worth a try.

"Just a minute!" Uhura called, sounding harried. There was the sound of muffled conversation inside, and a soft thud and muffled groan. A second later, she appeared at the door, robe wrapped around her, hair in disarray.

"Excuse me, Captain." She apologized. Kirk waved it off. It was, after all around four in the morning. Seeing the Commodore, she assumed a worried expression. "Is something the matter?"

Kirk cleared his throat. "You haven't seen Sulu or Chekov have you?" He asked.

Uhura hesitated. "Why? Did is something wrong?"

The Commodore sighed. "They might be in trouble, miss. Now do you know where either of them might be?"

Uhura blushed, and wouldn't quite meet Kirk's or the Commodore's eyes. "I know where they are." She admitted. "Come in."

Sulu was passed out face down on the couch, Kirk saw as they followed Uhura into her quarters. Chekov was perched on the edge of her bed, pulling his shirt on. He was up and at attention in a second.

"Keptin. Commodore." He flushed as he acknowledged them both. "Is something the matter?"

"Where were you and Lieutenant Sulu last night?" The Commodore demanded harshly.

Chekov gulped, and studied his bare feet. "Sulu passed out on couch around one." He said hesitantly. "He's been there ever since."

"And before that?" The Commodore persisted.

"Drinking." Chekov replied, still not looking up. "Ve vere celebrating."

"And just _what_ were you celebrating?" The Commodore asked smugly.

Chekov blinked and looked up. "Vas my birthday, sir. I turned twenty-three yesterday. Sulu doesn't handle Wodka wery vell." Uhura chuckled nervously at that. Kirk tried to remember when the Ensign's birthday was. Could it have been yesterday? That would mean that no one else had remembered, and he hadn't brought it up. It was, of course, entirely possible.

"And you were here as well?" The Commodore asked. Chekov nodded, and looked back at the floor. "All night?"

He flushed again, and his eyes darted to meet Uhura's before they went back to his feet. She cleared her throat. The Commodore pressed.

"He was here all night." Uhura said uncomfortably. Kirk realized this was leading to something, but he wasn't quite sure what.

The Commodore turned to study her. "Are you sure?" He asked.

She smiled sheepishly. "Oh, I'm sure, Commodore." She replied. "I'm not sure how I could be mistaken about _that_."

Chekov let loose a nervous chuckle. "Oops." Was all he said.

Kirk cleared his throat, embarrassed for her sake. "Well?" He said to the Commodore, who also seemed slightly embarrassed.

The man frowned. "Perhaps you're right, Captain. He simply had too much to drink, got into another fight, and saw a chance to cause more trouble for these two. All the same, you might remind them that they still represent the fleet and are still accountable for their actions, even when inebriated.

"I will certainly do so." Kirk assured him. "Sorry to intrude." He said to Uhura. She waved it off.

"Don't worry about it." She said. Chekov still stared at his bare feet, about two seconds away from blushing furiously.

As Kirk and the Commodore left, and the door began to close, he thought he heard a sigh of relief from Uhura. He also thought he heard Sulu's voice.

"That's the last time I spend shore leave with you."

He shook his head and decided that if this were some elaborate cover-up, he really didn't want to know.

Disclaimer: Star Trek does not belong to me.


	19. Chapter 19

If Kirk had been expecting things to be slightly awkward between the Chekov and Uhura, he was disappointed. It was as if nothing had happened between the two. There was no uncertainty, no tension, no change in their relationship, no change in how they interacted.

Which was not to say that Uhura didn't flirt with him. Uhura had always tended to flirt with Sulu, had often flirted with Scott, and had even flirted with Spock on occasion. She was never overbearing, however, and never made anyone uncomfortable. She teased, and flirted, and joked, and that was that.

And sometime during the past month or so she had begun flirting with Chekov as well, which was perhaps what had started this in the first place, because Chekov had taken the cue and flirted right back. The two could be downright incorrigible once they got started, though thankfully Sulu usually managed to divert them before that happened.

But the fact remained that their relationship appeared no different than it had been before.

Kirk had thought about asking Chekov how they were getting along as they beamed down to the planet below. He had pushed the idea aside, knowing it wasn't really any of his business as long as it didn't interfere with the function of the ship, and there seemed little danger of that.

He thought about asking it now, simply for the sake of doing something, but it really wasn't appropriate. He had let his mind wander, desperate for some sort of distraction, but it still wasn't any of his business.

He looked over at Chekov, who was sprawled unceremoniously on the floor where he had fallen. Chekov seemed to sense his gaze, because he opened his eyes and turned his head to offer Kirk a very fake smile.

"They vill be looking for us." Chekov said. Kirk nodded. Of course they would. Whether or not it would be in time, however…

Chekov didn't ask what these space pirates wanted with Kirk, but he could see the question in his eyes. Kirk couldn't really answer; he didn't know.

They had beamed down in answer to a distress call. Kirk, Chekov, and several men from security had walked right into an ambush. The pirates had quickly killed everyone who wasn't command, and had turned to Kirk.

"You are from the _Enterprise_?" One of the pirates had demanded. It had been Chekov who had answered.

"Vhat's it to you?" He had demanded angrily. The pirate turned and backhanded him.

"Captain Kirk is on board the _Enterprise_, is he not?" He asked coolly, turning back to speak with the man he was apparently seeking.

Chekov spat at him. "Vhat do you vant vith the Keptin?" He demanded. The pirate turned, and Chekov flinched, but their captor merely laughed.

"You will see, in time. Call your ship, have your Captain beam down."

Chekov smiled at him. "Up yours." He replied cheerfully.

The pirate responded by seizing Chekov by the throat. Kirk started forward, but the pirate's accomplices jerked him back. He felt a burst of pain as one of them hit him in the back of the head with the butt of his own confiscated phaser.

The leader of the bunch had a firm grip on the young navigator. "Now, would you like me to strangle you, or are you going to call your Captain and have him come down here?"

Chekov flailed, trying to break his grip, but his assailant was stronger, and simply laughed at the effort. "I'm running out of patience." He informed Chekov. He let go of his throat and punched him in the stomach.

Chekov doubled over, and the pirate hauled him back up and hit him in the face. He delivered another blow to the stomach, and Chekov flinched as he was jerked upright again. "Okay!" Chekov yelped. "Okay!"

The pirate smirked. "That's what I thought." He said.

Chekov didn't look in Kirk's direction as he took the communicator from his captor. "Chekov to _Enterprise__._" He gasped, still trying to catch his breath.

Uhura's voice came over the communicator. "_Enterprise_." She responded coolly.

Chekov sighed. "I need to speak with Keptin Kirk." He said. There was silence on the other end. Kirk could almost see her looking to Spock for confirmation that the Captain had indeed beamed down with the Ensign.

"Captain Kirk is not available right now." Uhura said after a moment. "Is there a problem? Chekov?"

Chekov couldn't answer, the pirate had him by the throat again. "Tell her no. You just have a question that only the Captain can answer. Understand?" Chekov nodded, and was released.

Uhura was starting to sound worried. "Chekov?"

"No problem." Chekov managed to cough. "I just had a question to ask the Keptin."

"Mister Spock is here." Uhura sounded as if she were trying to be helpful. "Perhaps-"

"I vill vait till the Keptin is awailable." Chekov cut her off. "Spaceeboh, Nyota." He offered the pirate an apologetic shrug that only served to infuriate him.

He lit into the navigator, slamming him into the wall behind him. Chekov half-heartedly tried to defend himself; he knew it wasn't going to do him much good.

Kirk managed to break loose from those holding him back, and launched himself at Chekov's attacker.

Now that he thought about it, that had been a rather stupid move. He groaned as he tried to move his leg; a solid kick in the knee had downed Kirk pretty fast. He wasn't going anywhere fast.

Chekov didn't seem too interested in traveling either. He had sunk to the floor as their captor let him go, and hadn't even bothered to try and sit up. Kirk wondered how badly the Ensign had been hurt.

He was watching Kirk now, studying him. "How long before he comes back, you think?" Chekov asked.

Kirk shrugged. He had no idea. Then he offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile. He was the Captain; he was responsible for the morale of his crew. "Hopefully not until the _Enterprise_ signals back saying that Captain Kirk is available."

Chekov giggled, startling Kirk. "I just hope _ve_ don't have to vait that long." He declared.

Kirk chuckled. "So do I." He agreed. "That would be a long wait. But why did you tell them-"

Chekov sighed. "If the Keptin is here, vhat reason do they have for keeping me around?" He inquired. "They vere not going to just let me go."

Kirk knew he was right. If they did figure out who Kirk was, Chekov was as good as dead. He only hoped that their people on the _Enterprise _would find them soon.

"Ve are in a cave." Chekov seemed to be speaking more to the ceiling than to Kirk at this point. "Something in the valls must be interfering vith the scanners, or they vould know vhere ve are from the communicator signal. So it has to be something that confuses the signal, but doesn't block it, or ve vouldn't be able to call the ship at all." He stared thoughtfully at the ceiling above him.

Kirk was surprised. "Are you a scientist as well, Mr. Chekov?" He asked.

Chekov shook his head. "I just like to dabble in it." He replied absently. "I thought about it at the Academy, but navigation vas more fun."

Kirk fought back a smile, amused at the idea of someone choosing navigation simply because it was 'more fun' than another specialization.

"The lab instructor vas mad at me, though." Chekov admitted. "But I still ended up in there now and again anyvay."

"If you're still interested in science, I know Mister Spock is always looking for help with various research projects of his." Kirk told him.

Chekov replied with a crooked grin. "I'd like that, I think." He said almost shyly. "If ve get out of here." He added. "They never let me near the science labs on the last ship I vas assigned to." He shrugged easily.

Kirk frowned. Was that a warning that the Ensign was dangerous in a lab? Or had his previous experience on a ship been less than pleasant? Chekov saw the look, and hurried to amend his statement.

"That vas a joke, Keptin." He explained. "They simply didn't see vhy I should be there vhen there vere plenty of scientists awailable that vere much more experienced and capable than I vas."

Kirk frowned even deeper. The Captain of this ship, at least, should have known better than to discourage the young Ensign from wanting to learn more about any area of the ship, especially since the Ensign wore Command gold.

"What ship did you say you were previously assigned to, Ensign?" Kirk asked. Chekov's eyes widened.

"I didn't." He replied. He didn't want to talk about it, Kirk realized. It must have been a bad experience for him after all. Kirk held the younger man's gaze.

Chekov sighed. "It was the _Intrepid._" He admitted reluctantly.

Kirk gaped. This Ensign had somehow managed to get on board the _Intrepid_, an all-Vulcan scientific vessel. "How did you-?"

Chekov rolled his eyes. "I spent my last year and a half in the Academy arguing logic with the Captain of the _Intrepid_." He grumbled. "And begging, and pleading, and coming up vith every reason I could think of that he should let me sign on. He finally agreed that a three-month period might be beneficial to all involved." He sighed.

"So you spent your first three months of service on a ship full of Vulcans." Kirk said. "What was it like?"

Chekov raised an eyebrow at this. It reminded Kirk uncomfortably of Spock. "It vas fascinating." Chekov joked. After a moment he continued. "Really, though, it vas wery educational. I learned a lot about my job, about dealing vith other cultures, about myself."

"About yourself, Ensign?" Kirk asked.

Chekov shrugged. "I learned to think about vhy I did the things I did, and vhether or not they vere vorth holding on to vhen dealing with people who vouldn't understand them."

"Like?" Kirk wasn't exactly certain to what Chekov was referring.

"Like emotions. I learned to restrain them a bit on the _Intrepid._" On a ship full of Vulcans, Chekov's tendency to freely express how he felt would definitely not have been considered logical. "But I didn't try to stifle them completely." He continued. "I don't think I _could d_o that." He admitted. "Sulu claims I'd explode in a veek."

Sulu was probably right.

He realized, though, that Chekov had changed something, either intentionally or not. He had referred to the _Intrepid_ as his last assignment, but he had only been there for three months. That still left four months unaccounted for between the _Intrepid_ and the _Enterprise__._

"And after you finished on the _Intrepid_?" Kirk asked after a moment. It wasn't like they had anything else to do.

Chekov stared back up at the ceiling. He didn't want to talk about _that_. "It vas educational." He said after a minute. "I like the _Enterprise__._" He declared. "It's the most like home I've felt in a long time."

"Home?" Kirk asked.

"Russia." Chekov reminded him. "I can almost be myself on the _Enterprise_." He said thoughtfully.

"Almost?" Kirk asked, worried. Had someone given the Ensign a hard time over his background? The crew of the _Enterprise_ was probably one of the most diverse and most accepting in the fleet, but no one was perfect.

Chekov grinned. "Almost." He agreed, eyes glimmering. "I still have to speak English."

Kirk laughed. "Well, I suppose we could start teaching the crew Russian." He said thoughtfully.

Chekov giggled again. Kirk found it unsettling. Was Chekov hurt more than he was letting on?

"Vell, Uhura could probably manage, but Sulu still can't speak it vithout a terrible accent." He shuddered. "Is vorse than my Japanese."

Kirk could hear their captors returning. "If they have you contact the _Enterprise_ again, try to drag it out as long as possible. If the signal is still getting through, Spock may be able to get a fix on it. If he has enough time."

Chekov nodded solemnly and pulled himself into a sitting position, barely wincing as he did so. Kirk was impressed. Chekov had reacted rather well so far in this crisis. He had kept his head, and hadn't panicked. He had also apparently convinced their captor that he was the one in charge here. Either that, or the more likely to give him what he wanted.

"Call your ship again." He growled, practically throwing the communicator at him. "I'm tired of waiting."

"Patience is a virtue." Chekov reminded him as he flipped open the communicator. "Chekov to _Enterprise._" He said before the pirate could retaliate.

"_Enterprise__." _Uhura's voice came over the speaker. "I'm sorry, but the Captain is still not available."

Chekov sighed. "Are you sure you can't get a hold of him for me, _babochka?"_

There was a second or two of silence on the other end. "_Babochka?_" Uhura repeated menacingly.

Chekov hesitated. "_Med_?" He tried.

"Now you listen here, _Mister_ Chekov." Uhura lit into him. Kirk couldn't believe it. "If you think that just because of what happened that _one_ night, especially after you've been acting for a week and a half like nothing happened-"

Red faced with embarrassment, Chekov tried to calm her down. "Look, Nyota."

"Nyota? _Nyota?_ I am your superior, _Ensign._ That's Lieutenant to you."

Chekov eyed the pirate nervously. Their captor seemed more amused by this display than annoyed. "D-do you think we could do this some other time?" Chekov managed to stammer.

"Some other time?" Uhura repeated indignantly. "Some other time? Why? Because you don't want anyone to know what happened?"

"No!" Chekov insisted. "It just isn't wery professional, is all."

"Don't you tell me how to do my job, _mister._" Uhura snapped. "Of all the unbelievable-You arrogant little-"

"I didn't mean anything by it!" Chekov protested. Kirk flinched. That was the wrong thing to say.

"You didn't mean anything by it?" Uhura was practically shouting. "So you just had too much to drink, oops, sorry, we'll pretend it never happened because it meant absolutely nothing to you?"

"Uh, that is not vhat I meant." Chekov replied defensively. He wouldn't look at either the Captain or the pirate that was watching all this with apparent glee.

"Well you've got two minutes to explain just what you _did_ mean, _Ensign._" Uhura said acidly.

"I meant that I vasn't sure how to act." Chekov said desperately. "That I vasn't sure how _you_ vould react. I vas scared."

"Uh-huh. Keep talking."

Chekov searched the ceiling for inspiration. "You're so beautiful, you know. And smart, and funny. And everyone likes you. It's intimidating. I figured Sulu vas only introducing us to be nice, that you vere vay out of my league. I didn't think I stood a chance, and then-" Chekov didn't finish whatever he was going to say. Their captor had knocked the communicator out of his hand.

They could hear the approaching rescue team. The pirate knew he had been tricked. He lunged towards Chekov with a cry of rage.

Chekov dropped back to the floor as a phaser blast caught the pirate and sent him crashing to the ground.

"Captain." Spock nodded to Kirk.

"Spock!" Kirk greeted him enthusiastically. "Perfect timing."

Chekov sat back up and grinned widely at the Vulcan. "You found us."

Spock nodded. "Lieutenant Uhura sends her apologies." He said, eyebrow up, as if he did not understand the message he was supposed to deliver.

Chekov sighed and shook his head. "Sulu vill never let me hear the end of this."

Disclaimer: Star Trek does not belong to me.


	20. Chapter 20

Kirk was still trapped in sickbay when Uhura showed up to talk to Chekov. He tensed as she approached the Ensign, who also wore a trapped expression as he lay on one of the beds.

Until he noticed her. He laughed nervously as she approached. "Thanks." He said, even as she said "Sorry."

They both laughed again, uncertainly. It was Uhura who spoke this time. "I guessed that was what you were trying to do, but I'm sorry everyone on the bridge had to hear it."

He shrugged. "I like it better than being dead, to tell the truth." She looked up from the tile she had been studying so intently, and he smiled. "So how bad is it?" He asked brightly.

She flinched. "You know how rumors spread. I've been getting looks all day, I'm sure you'll be getting them when you get out, and Heaven help us if we're actually seen together."

"Sorry." He said. "I shouldn't have let you talk me into it."

She flashed him a radiant smile. "I wouldn't have suggested it if I minded, Pavel. And it was worth it to keep you two out of trouble."

He chuckled. "If I had known it was going to be so public, I vould have suggested ve might as vell enjoy ourselves in the process." Kirk stared in horror as he realized they were talking about the events of _that_ night.

Uhura shot him a glare before smacking him soundly in the back of the head. "Ow." He complained, before chuckling. "Okay, forget I said it."

She offered him a devilish grin. "I most certainly will _not_ forget! I'm telling Sulu."

"No, not Hikaru!" Chekov protested. "I am hearing enough of this from him as it is! Ve should have put _him_ in bed vith you."

Uhura laughed. "He would've died." Chekov nodded wickedly.

Well, Kirk thought, Chekov didn't seem much the worse, aside from his physical injuries, for having been beaten up by a pirate. Actually, when Kirk thought about it, Chekov seemed to react to most injuries the same way; they didn't seem to faze him. Whether it were the result of some accident or some deliberate attack, he reacted the same. There was nothing currently evident in his behavior to suggest that he had sustained a few broken ribs, was sporting some bruises, and had nearly been strangled.

Sulu was watching Kirk; he had just entered sickbay and apparently wasn't ready to bother Chekov and Uhura. He had a curious expression on his face.

"Is something wrong, Captain?" Sulu asked softly. Kirk hesitated for a moment before responding.

"You wouldn't think, to look at him, that he just about got the snot beat out of him today." Kirk finally said. "That he could have been killed. That he was injured."

Sulu shrugged. "All in a day's work for-"

"A Starfleet Officer." Kirk finished. Sulu laughed and shook his head.

"I was actually going to say Pavel Chekov. Injury is a way of life for him." Sulu explained in response to Kirk's questioning glare. "He doesn't get sick, but he does seem to have an uncanny ability to attract injury. He's used to it by now. It would take something serious to get Chekov worked up."

Kirk couldn't deny that if someone were going to get injured, chances were that if Chekov were present, it would be him. Nor could he deny that it didn't seem to surprise the Ensign or upset him either.

Kirk hesitated again. Sulu waited patiently. "Uhura and Chekov, that night? They didn't actually-"

"Uhura suggested it would give us a credible alibi to be celebrating his birthday and for things to go too far." Sulu explained. "Nothing actually happened." He winced. "Sorry, sir."

"Why?" Kirk demanded. "Why did you do it?"

Sulu seemed to be trying to decide what to say. "The girl. Her threatened to kill her after he was released. She was frightened, didn't know what else to do, so she went to Chekov. So he just went down and explained to the jerk that what was actually going to happen was that she was going to leave him, and he was going to let her go and not bother her again."

"And he listened?" Kirk asked.

Sulu nodded absently. "You don't argue with Pavel when he's angry." He left, then, to join Chekov and Uhura, leaving Kirk to digest _that_ piece of information.

Disclaimer: Star Trek does not belong to me.


	21. Chapter 21

The rec room went practically silent as the door opened and the two came inside, his arm around her waist.

If they noticed, it didn't seem to bother them.

Chekov whispered conspiratorially in Uhura's ear; whatever he said drew a genuine laugh from her. His eyes sparkled mischievously, hers gleamed.

They really weren't doing much to discourage the rumors that were flying, Kirk mused.

But what could they do? Appear to be seeing other people? That would have only caused further rumors. Avoiding each other would have done no good either.

They sat down at the table, one on each side of Sulu. Uhura leaned in to tell him something, and Chekov shot her a petulant glare. The realization hit Kirk that this was how they always acted around each other, and that it had always looked as if there were _something_ going on between the three of them.

Sulu smacked Chekov in the back of the head, and Uhura applauded. Chekov scowled and crossed his arms over his chest, looking for all the world like the kid Kirk had originally thought of him as rather than a well-trained Starfleet Officer.

Uhura slipped off to talk to Scotty, and Sulu pulled Chekov into a headlock and held him like that for a few seconds, Chekov trying in vain to get loose all the while.

An alert sounded, and the two straighten up, all business now. Uhura too was ready for action.

As Kirk reported to the bridge, he realized how lucky he was to have such a skilled and unique group as his Senior Officers. He really didn't need to worry about the situation between Chekov and Uhura; they could take care of themselves.

The rumors would eventually fade away and be forgotten.

Disclaimer: Star Trek does not belong to me.


	22. Chapter 22

Chekov scowled and pulled off his uniform, leaving only the black undershirt on to protect him from the cold. He threw it unceremoniously at Spock.

"Don't argue vith me, Mister Spock." He growled at the Vulcan. "You can't tolerate this kind of cold. You'll freeze to death."

"And you won't?" Kirk demanded.

Chekov grinned. "Not as quickly." He replied, before fixing Spock with another glare. "I'm from Russia. It gets _cold_ there in vinter. This is nothing."

"You're going to get sick." McCoy rasped, though Kirk noticed he was also trying to maneuver the half-frozen Vulcan into the shirt anyway. Chekov shrugged easily in reply.

"Probably." He agreed cheerfully. "But not as sick as the rest of you."

"Oh, shut up." Sulu grumbled. He was huddled up next to the Russian, trying to keep warm. Chekov rolled his eyes and pulled the older man closer, as if trying to share as much body heat as he possibly could.

"How long till the storm passes?" Chekov asked casually, and Kirk stifled a sigh.

The _Enterprise _could not beam them back until the current blizzard passed. Storms on this planet frequently lasted for at least twelve hours, sometimes even longer. This one had been predicted to last fourteen.

They still had four hours to go.

Kirk wasn't sure they'd make it. Spock was nearly unconscious already; McCoy was doing everything he could to keep the Vulcan from freezing to death. Sulu was shivering so hard Kirk could hear his teeth chattering, and Kirk could no longer feel his feet. Chekov seemed the least affected by the cold, but he wasn't invincible.

"Hey, Hikaru?" Chekov asked after a minute.

"Hmm?" Came the reluctant reply.

"Truth or dare?" Sulu groaned.

"I am _not_ playing that s-stupid g-game with you!" He declared.

"But I'm bored!" Chekov sulked. "Is not like Keptin is going to let me go build a snowman. Come on, please?"

"Absolutely not." Sulu insisted.

"Why not?" Kirk asked mildly, barely keeping the chatter out of his own voice. "There's not much else to do right now."

Sulu scowled at Kirk, a decidedly insubordinate action, but given the situation, Kirk wasn't about to say anything. "Fine." Sulu grumbled. "Truth."

Chekov grinned madly for a split second. "Okay. That girl in your astrophysics class, did you like her?"

Sulu scowled again. "Of course I liked her. She was a nice person. Didn't you?"

"No, I mean _like_ like." Chekov clarified.

"We got along rather well." Sulu retorted. Chekov groaned.

"But you really liked her, didn't you? You thought she vas pretty."

"She was."

"You vanted to ask her out."

"You already asked your question!" Sulu objected. "It's my turn."

"Okay." Chekov agreed easily. He didn't seem to mind that Sulu had skirted answering the question outright.

"Truth or dare?" Sulu asked him.

"Truth." Came the reply. Kirk wondered what Sulu would have done if Chekov had said 'dare.' There wasn't really much they could do here.

Sulu thought for a moment. "Are you gay?"

Chekov blinked. "No." He replied.

"But I've seen you in bars-" Sulu persisted.

"I'm polite." Chekov replied evenly. "It's not their fault I'm not attracted to them."

"Or that you're so cute." Sulu retorted.

Chekov eyed his friend curiously. "Are you-?"

"No." Sulu replied. "But you'd be surprised how much I hear it."

"But you thought I vas?" Sulu shrugged.

"Well there was that one guy that was practically sitting on your lap…" Sulu trailed off.

"Should that have bothered me?" Chekov wanted to know. Sulu shrugged again.

Kirk watched in amusement as it was Chekov's turn again. "Truth." Sulu replied before the Ensign could ask.

"Who stole the cookies Mama sent me for Christmas?"

Sulu didn't hesitate. "Uhura."

"You helped her." Chekov accused. Sulu didn't deny it. Instead he turned to Kirk.

"Truth or dare?" He asked.

Kirk hesitated. True, they didn't have much else to do, but Kirk wasn't sure he wanted to get involved in this game of-whatever it was. Chekov shot him a look that was also rather insubordinate, and Kirk sighed. "Truth." He said.

"What did you really think about Chekov when he first came aboard?" Kirk blinked. McCoy was busy hovering over Spock, and Chekov's face had gone studiously blank. Was Sulu trying to cause trouble?

Surely not. The idea that Sulu would ask something like that with the intention of hurting his friend was absurd. Of course, the thought that _any _of the department heads had been oblivious, in spite of Kirk's attempts at hiding it, to Kirk's initial reaction to having the boy aboard was equally ridiculous.

Chekov broke the tension with a giggle. "Sulu is messing vith you, Keptin." He announced, shooting his friend a not-very-convincing glare. "I know he didn't like it." He informed Sulu.

Kirk tried to reassure the Ensign without blatantly lying to him. This only seemed to amuse Chekov farther. "Vell, how could you like it?" He asked with a broad grin. "A kid only sewen months out of the Academy is put in charge of the nawigation department. Of course you vouldn't like it. I vasn't sure it vas a good idea either."

"Then why did you accept the promotion?" Kirk asked. Chekov shrugged.

"I vanted to be on the _Enterprise__._" He admitted after a moment. "If I had to risk being the bad guy to get there, so vhat? I vas still vhere I vant to be."

It was Sulu who broke the thoughtful silence this time. "Y-your turn, C-Captain." He stammered through the cold.

Kirk stomped his feet to try to get some feeling back into them while he thought. There wasn't really anything he felt comfortable asking these two, knowing that in keeping with the game they would truthfully answer anything he asked, whether they wanted to or not.

He turned to McCoy. "Truth or dare?" McCoy shot him a withering glance, but sighed and answered anyway. That worried Kirk more than anything else so far.

"Truth." McCoy drawled. "I feel like I'm back in high school."

Feeling a bit of a devilish streak, Kirk asked. "What did you think about _Sulu _when he first came aboard?"

McCoy wasn't fazed. "I thought he was nuts." McCoy replied, mainly for Chekov's benefit. "Waving that sword around in the gym, coming in with some kind of toxins in his blood from his stupid plants. But what _really_ clued me in that he was crazy was that he could sit and pilot through certain death without batting an eye or even ruffling his hair." McCoy snorted, the picture of righteous indignation. "We might be blown to pieces if we do that, Captain," McCoy said in imitation of Sulu, "but I'll give it a try."

Chekov chuckled. Sulu almost blushed. Kirk allowed himself a small smile. His men were still joking around, in spite of the increasing cold. They still had hope.

McCoy turned to look straight at Chekov. "Truth or dare?" He asked, and Kirk suddenly had a bad feeling about this.

Chekov met the challenge with little hesitation. "Truth."

"Why don't you like sickbay?" Kirk almost groaned at the piercing question, and the sudden reaction Chekov gave to it. McCoy was taking advantage of the situation.

"Bones-" McCoy silenced him with a look.

Chekov was still silent; all attempts at appearing carefree had vanished. His face was neutral as he answered, his eyes on the ground. "Vith my, shall ve say, tendency toward injury I spent enough of my childhood in hospitals to last anyone more than a lifetime." He hesitated. "I also had an interesting experience vhen I vas nine vith a doctor who vas convinced that I vas too young to be able to tell the difference between pressure and pain." He swallowed. "It left a bit of an impression." The he looked up, and met the doctor's eyes. "I probably should have mentioned it, but…" He trailed off. "Vake up, Hikaru." Chekov said softly, though urgently.

Hikaru groaned. "Yeah, yeah, I know." He retorted. "I c-could use a cup of c-coffee."

Chekov made a face. "Vhat on earth vould you vant vith that stuff?" He demanded indignantly. "Vhat you need is a nice mug of tea."

"You and y-your t-tea." Hikaru scoffed. He was awake again, for now. McCoy was once more worrying over Spock. Kirk stamped his feet again.

"Coffee is disgusting." Chekov maintained.

"How w-would you know, y-you've never had it." Sulu accused.

"Have too." Chekov retorted. "Once. It vas the vorst decision of my life." He declared with a shudder.

Or was he shivering? Chekov may have been from Russia, but there was no doubt the cold was starting to get to him too.

Kirk ticked down the time as Chekov and Sulu proceeded to argue about coffee. Three hours left. He hoped they could make it.

"Keptin?" Kirk shook his head as he realized he had nearly drifted off. Chekov was demanding his input on the subject of coffee.

Kirk managed a weary smile. "I wouldn't say no to a steaming cup of coffee about now. Would you, Sulu?"

"A-absolutely not." Sulu replied decisively. "B-but I suppose Pavel would." He added darkly.

"I am not _that_ cold." Chekov informed his friend. "You can have it."

Sulu growled at his friend. "Y-you'd rather freeze to d-death yourself than t-touch the stuff." He accused.

Chekov thought about it for a minute. "Probably." He admitted. "Now a warm cup of tea, that vould be nice. Or some of Mama's soup."

"Mmmm." Sulu agreed. "I c-could g-go for that."

"I have the recipe." Chekov said conspiratorially. "I'll make some vhen ve get back to the ship."

"B-better t-tell Nyota, or she'll n-never f-forgive you." Sulu stammered.

Chekov giggled. Again, it worried Kirk. The only times he had known the man to-to giggle were in stressful situations, usually when the man was hurt. Was the cold affecting Chekov more than he let on? Kirk really should have made him keep his uniform on, but-

It was Sulu who noticed his concern. "C-captain?" He asked, actually sounding worried. McCoy looked up from where he was huddled over the Vulcan.

Great, Kirk could either say something and possibly embarrass the man, or remain silent and worry them all. What a choice.

"Jim?" McCoy was worried too. Kirk shook his head and tried to look reassuring. It only served to worry the others more.

"Keptin?" It was Chekov's turn to ask if he were alright.

Kirk managed a chuckle. "Nothing's wrong. I'm alright. Just cold." He assured them.

"You looked vorried." Chekov pursued.

Kirk shrugged, embarrassed. "You were giggling." He finally offered, when the others wouldn't just let it drop.

The elicited another burst of those same giggles from Chekov, and Sulu chuckled. Neither seemed particularly worried.

"Giggling is _not_ appropriate for a Starfleet Officer." Sulu finally offered, while Chekov tried to control himself. Kirk just stared.

"Nobody took me seriously." Chekov finally managed to explain. "In fact, they often looked at me like I vas insane. I don't know vhy, the nearest I could guess vas that Starfleet Officers aren't _supposed_ to giggle."

"So," Sulu continued, "with much diligence, and practice, he managed to stifle the giggles. Except when he's too tired, or injured, or sick, or just too busy to bother with it."

"Vhich happens more than you'd think." Chekov offered.

"It scares people too." Sulu confided in a staged whisper. "They think he's a madman." He looked thoughtful for a minute. "They'd be right." He decided. They lapsed back into a weary silence that lasted until Sulu stirred and elbowed his friend.

"What was that s-story?" He asked through clenched teeth. Chekov frowned in response.

"Vhat story?" He asked.

"Y-you know." Sulu replied. "The one y-your Mom used t-to s-say was the only w-way she c-could get you to g-go to s-stay in bed when you were l-little."

Chekov groaned, a trifle over-dramatically. "Vhy do you alvays have to bring that up?" He demanded. "You can't just say, 'your favorite story' or 'that story your Mama used to tell you vhen you vere younger' or 'that story I keep pestering you about.' All of those vould vork just as vell."

Sulu almost laughed. "Yeah, b-but n-none of those g-get you so worked up."

Chekov sighed, and huffed, but eventually gave in and began weaving a story that soon held even Kirk spellbound, forgetful of the urgency of their situation or even the piercing cold, as he spoke.

One hour to go, Kirk thought as Chekov's story finally came to an end. Could they make it? McCoy was shivering too much by now to do more than watch Spock helplessly, and Chekov was determinedly poking Sulu every couple of minutes to keep him awake. Sulu would grumble, and manage to stay awake for a few minutes, at which point Chekov would poke him again.

"Ow!" Sulu finally snapped, poking Chekov back. "Stop it!"

Chekov merely stuck his tongue out at his friend and poked him again, which only served to irritate Sulu farther. "I'm glad _you're_ having fun in this unholy weather." He growled, poking Chekov back once more out of sheer contrariness.

Forty-five minutes.

Chekov poked Sulu back, which elicited a curse from the man, and launched his communicator at McCoy who, Kirk realized with horror, had started to doze off himself.

McCoy jerked upright. "I'm awake!" He growled, looking around for the culprit.

Sulu pointed at Chekov and retaliated with another poke. "Pavel's being an idiot." He informed McCoy wearily.

The accused flicked Sulu in the back of the head. "Am not." He protested.

"Are too."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Your mom-"

"_Your _mom." Kirk tried to rouse himself enough to do something as the two genuinely looked as if they were going to have it out. He found he didn't have the strength to do anything more than copy McCoy and stare at the two in a slightly alarmed stupor.

Sulu glared at Chekov. "Jerk."

"Lunkhead."

"Idiot."

"Uh-" Chekov faltered for a second, "Stupid-face?" It came out as more of a question than an insult, however, and Sulu actually hesitated.

"Stupid-face?" He demanded, then to Kirk's surprise burst out into pained gasps of laughter. Chekov shifted uncomfortably.

Thirty minutes to go.

"You try insulting someone in a foreign language." Chekov muttered darkly.

"How about dumb-butt?" Sulu suggested. "Or moron. Or fool. Or ugly." He shook his head. "Anything's better than 'stupid-face.'"

Chekov shrugged. "I could insult you in Russian, but vhat good is that if you don't understand it?" He asked.

Sulu thought about it. "You could teach me Russian insults, and then use them."

"And teach you how to insult me in my own language?" Chekov asked, appalled. "Certainly not!"

Sulu sighed. "There's nothing for it, then." He said sadly. "I'll just have to teach you to insult me in mine." He frowned. "Hardly seems fair, though."

Fifteen minutes, Kirk thought as the conversation continued and Sulu began offering insults in English for Chekov to consider.

Five minutes to go.

"Spock!" McCoy pulled himself upright and began checking the Vulcan. "Come on, Spock!" A note of panic sounded in McCoy's voice.

Kirk struggled painfully to his feet and lurched over to the doctor, his vision blurring and spinning as he did. "Bones?"

"I'm losing him, Jim!" McCoy shouted desperately. Kirk didn't know what to do. What could he do?

He whirled around, Chekov had let loose an almost feral snarl. "Stay vith me, Hikaru." Kirk heard him growl at the older man.

McCoy looked up at Kirk helplessly. His face, already pale, went impossibly paler. "Jim!" He rasped.

Kirk staggered, too numb to even think any more. Part of him knew he should fight, but he was too tired to remember what he was fighting against. He slipped to the ground, and welcomed the darkness.

Disclaimer: Star Trek does not belong to me.


	23. Chapter 23

Sulu called to his friend as the bathroom door opened. "We're coming in! Turn the heat up!"

He needn't have bothered, Kirk thought. It was warmer in Chekov's quarter's than it was in Sulu's. He hesitated in the doorway; Captain or not, he felt as if he were intruding, entering Chekov's quarters unannounced and uninvited.

Sulu felt no such hesitation. "Lights." He called into the darkness as he made his way into the room.

Both he and Kirk stopped when they caught sight of Chekov bundled up in a thick blanket, asleep in the chair at his desk.

Sulu rolled his eyes, and had crossed the room and given Chekov a shove before Kirk could do a thing to stop him.

Chekov's eyes flew open, and he managed to catch himself and stay in his chair. He glared up at the older man. "Vhat do you vant?" He demanded. "Who let you out of sickbay?"

"Who let _you_ out?" Sulu demanded. "You're supposed to be in there with the rest of us."

Chekov rolled his eyes. "I vasn't passed out on the ground vhen the blizzard finally cleared." He commented with a scowl. "You shouldn't be up. Does Doctor McCoy know about this?"

"McCoy sent us up here to find out why you weren't in sickbay." Kirk replied. "He found out that you informed Nurse Chapel that you were fine and would be in your quarters."

Chekov sighed. "I am fine." He declared. "I have a cold. Am tired. Is all."

Sulu wasn't convinced. "You gave Spock your shirt." He reminded his friend.

"Russia gets cold in vinter. You know that."

"That doesn't mean you go ice skating naked." Sulu retorted. "You may have a higher tolerance, but it affects you too. Don't play games with me, Pavel."

Chekov groaned. "I don't need to go to sickbay. Is not that big of deal."

He protested.

"Fine." Sulu said after a minute. He walked over to Chekov's bed.

Chekov eyed his friend as if he had suddenly gone mad. "Fine?" He asked.

Sulu nodded. "Fine. You don't have to go." He sat down on Chekov's bed. "Of course, we were sent to get you, so we can't really go back without you, you know."

Chekov scowled. "You should go back to sickbay."

"Cant. Not without you." Sulu offered Chekov a smug smile. He knew he had won.

Chekov knew it too. "I don't like you." He declared. "Come on." He stood and threw the blanket at Sulu. Kirk blinked. It was the first time he had ever seen the man in a sweater. Truthfully, the idea had never occurred to him before.

Chekov noticed Kirk's attention. "Can ve just go?" He demanded, already beginning to sulk.

Disclaimer: Star Trek does not belong to me.

Author's note: Sorry, I know it's very short. Don't worry, the next will be much longer. I promise.


	24. Chapter 24

Uhura, and Scott, for that matter, was standing there, arms crossed, glaring at Chekov and Sulu.

Frankly, Kirk wanted to join them, but didn't want to stoop to that sort of behavior in front of Commodore Finnegan. _That_ would only make the Commodore's day even better.

Chekov frowned, and looked back over at Sulu. Sulu raised his eyebrows in response, as if they were having some silent discussion of the matter. Uhura sighed. "Come, on, it's only _laser tag_." She said, irritation furrowing her brows. "It's only a _game_, and the Captain asked you to play."

Chekov hesitated. "Does that make it an order?" He asked Sulu. Sulu quickly shook his head, but turned to Kirk for confirmation.

"It's _not_ an order." Kirk told him. But it would give them a fighting chance against Finnegan's team. They were out-numbered right now; five against five was the usual number for teams, and Sulu and Chekov would even it out, if they agreed to play.

Or at least, it would give them half a chance. Finnegan's team was made up mostly of people Kirk highly suspected were from Security. This would be difficult enough if they agreed. If Chekov and Sulu _didn't_ play, they would be slaughtered.

The last thing Kirk wanted to do was look bad in front of Finnegan. He knew it was childish, but old habits died hard. He fought back a scowl as Sulu shook his head.

"I don't think so, Captain." He said easily. Chekov shrugged; for whatever reason, he was following Sulu's lead in this.

"Thanks anvays." Chekov offered.

Uhura practically growled. "Your Captain's honor is at stake here, boys." She told them. "Have you ever _me_t Commodore Finnegan?"

Chekov again looked to Sulu. Sulu shook his head. "No, I don't believe so." He said.

"Believe me, if ye had met the man before, ye'd know." Scotty said matter-of-factly. "Ye've got to play! This is the Cap'n we're talking about."

Chekov shook his head. "I don't think so." He said, echoing Sulu.

Kirk tried to hide his desperation as Finnegan approached. "All set, Jimmy-boy?" The Commodore asked, giving Kirk an overly enthusiastic slap on the back.

Kirk forced a smile. "Not quite." He admitted. "These two were just trying to decide whether or not they were going to play."

Finnegan eyed the two. "Come on, now!" He urged them. "You don't want your Captain to be beaten any worse than he has to, do you?"

Chekov frowned and turned to study the man. "You Commodore Finnegan?" He guessed.

"Yeah." The man replied with a laugh. "And you are?"

Chekov smiled innocently. "Pavel Chekov. This is Hikaru Sulu. Helm."

"Hi." Said Sulu conversationally. "So this is a pretty big game, huh?"

Finnegan laughed. "Just another of your Captain's desperate attempts to prove something." He said. Chekov's eyes narrowed, and Finnegan stepped forward to pat him patronizingly on the shoulder. "That was a joke, boy." He said. "Jimmy and I went to the Academy together."

"Old friends." Sulu offered to Chekov. "You know, like Lassiter and Wilson."

Chekov chuckled. "Oh." He said, smiling at Finnegan yet again before turning back to Sulu. "So this is big deal for Keptin, no?"

Sulu nodded thoughtfully. "Bragging rights, old Academy rivalry. Hmmm."

Finnegan rolled his eyes. "Well, either play or don't, but make up your minds already; your Captain is due for a defeat."

Sulu and Chekov exchanged a glance. Chekov sighed heavily. "Okay." Sulu agreed reluctantly. "We'll play. One round." Chekov nodded in agreement.

"Great." Finnegan said. "Give you guys a chance, won't it?" He slapped Kirk again. "Get your people ready, Jimmy-boy." He strolled away to join his team.

Kirk sighed. "Alright. Three hits and you're out. Last team with someone standing wins. Any questions?"

Chekov grinned. "Seems easy enough, Keptin. Don't get shot, shoot the other guys, no problem. Right, Hikaru?"

Sulu nodded. Kirk couldn't decide if the helmsman looked apprehensive over the idea of the game, or simply because he didn't want to play. He hoped it was the latter.

Five minutes later they entered the arena. "Okay," said Kirk, already planning an attack, "I'll take the lead. Uhura, you and Scotty on either side of me. Chekov, you-" Kirk broke off, and frowned. "Chekov?"

Chekov was gone. So was Sulu, for that matter. Kirk fought back a sigh. Apparently the two had agreed to play, but that didn't mean they were going to get very involved.

Of course, it wasn't really their battle. This was something between Kirk and Finnegan, something that those playing along had been dragged into. So why did it bother Kirk so much that the two had simply slipped off?

Uhura let out a startled yelp; she'd been hit. "Down!" Kirk shouted, right before chaos broke loose.

They had walked right into an ambush. Finnegan and his gang had been sitting there waiting for them.

They managed to find cover; Uhura had been hit twice, Scott and Kirk once each. Had they managed to score on their opponents?

Kirk had to admit he didn't think so.

They broke up then; they stood a better chance of not being beaten as quickly this way.

Kirk crept alone in the dark and near silence. He was tense, geared as if for a real battle. Perhaps he was taking this too seriously…

"Oh, no you don't." Uhura coolly informed someone. Kirk couldn't see her, but she was in trouble. "If I go down, you're coming with me."

An alarm sounded; Uhura was out. Less than a second later, it sounded again.

"Ye should'a listened to the lass, laddie." Scott had taken care of whoever had gotten Uhura. They were still even, then, if you counted the missing Sulu and Chekov.

Kirk rounded a corner; he saw the man a split second before he saw Kirk. Kirk squeezed off the trigger fast enough to get two hits in for his opponent's one. He broke off and darted for cover, his opponent didn't follow.

He was going to have to be more careful. He crouched as he continued through the maze.

The alarm sounded again, and Kirk heard Scott's exclamation of triumph behind him. Scott had found and finished off Kirk's previous adversary.

A second later Scott swore; and Finnegan laughed as the alarm went off again. Kirk groaned.

He also picked up the pace. If Finnegan knew where he was…

Kirk rounded another corner and found himself face to face with another from Finnegan's team. This one held his laser gun out in front of him, ready to fire.

Both men started and turned as what sounded like a war cry split the air behind Kirk's foe.

Someone straightened up out of a shadow; he pulled off a shot and darted around a corner. This gave Kirk enough time to raise his own laser gun and fire.

His opponent turned back, and was ready to fire before Kirk could get in the final shot. Someone whistled behind Kirk; he instinctively dropped and rolled out of the way.

He turned in time to see Chekov appear out of nowhere; Kirk was reminded of those old horror scenes where the demon suddenly seems to rise up out of the very floor right before it goes for your throat.

The Ensign fired. Then he was gone. The alarm sounded; the score was three to two, in Kirk's favor.

Another alarm sounded. Kirk hoped it was one of Finnegan's team, better yet Finnegan himself, but didn't count on it.

He moved more carefully now, wary of running into Finnegan. He was here somewhere; he would want to take care of Kirk himself so as to rub it in even further. Kirk scowled as he stalked through the maze.

Someone materialized in front of him. He jerked his gun up to fire; the figure before him ducked under his arm and spun around to jab the back of Kirk's vest with his own gun.

"Don't fire, Captain." It was Sulu. Kirk let out a sigh of relief.

"Where's Chekov?" He asked. Kirk couldn't make out Sulu's expression as he shook his head.

"I don't know." He replied. "One of them came up behind me and Chekov jumped him. I don't know which one's out now. You hit?"

Kirk stifled a growl. "Twice." He admitted. "You?"

"Once." Sulu conceded. "Was trying to block for Scotty, but…" He trailed off. "So? Are we going after Finnegan?"

Kirk nodded. "Cover me." He said. Sulu stepped back and faded swiftly into the shadows. In the back of his mind, Kirk wondered why Sulu hadn't wanted to play. He was good at this. He moved carefully forward into the darkness. Navigating the maze that had been set up probably should not have been immensly difficult.

If it had not been so dark. If the only light wasn't glow in the dark paint on various parts of the walls and floor and sometimes even the ceiling. Kirk continued on through the dark, guessing, or hoping rather, that Sulu was still with him in the darkness somewhere.

Kirk was an idiot.

He walked right into Finnegan. Sulu shoved Kirk out of the way, but the delay cost him another hit when he couldn't himself get out of the way in time as well. It also left Kirk cornered.

Finnegan grinned. "First," he said as he lowered his gun, "I'm gonna finish you off." He fired. The alarm sounded, and Kirk was out. "Now I'm gonna take care of the kids." He chuckled. "Amazing they made it this far, but that was probably a mixture of luck and playing chicken."

He started as a blast hit him, then he took off running. Kirk sighed as he headed to the exit. It had been nice while it lasted, he thought. He gritted his teeth at the thought of losing to Finnegan _again_.

He reached the observation room; his arrival was hardly noticed. Everyone was gathered around the screen that was tracking those left in the game.

Chekov was still in, Kirk noticed as he went to stand behind Uhura. "How are they doing?" He asked.

"Shh!" Uhura shushed him. Then she realized who he was. "Sorry, Captain." She apologized. "But you have to see this. It's absolutely amazing!"

Chekov and Sulu were prowling, visible only through the technology that allowed viewers to see clearly even in the tunnel section, which was pitch black. They both looked ready for a fight.

What was amazing, though, was the fact that they seemed to be moving in a pattern, as if each knew exactly where the other was at any given moment.

Finnegan was also stalking the maze. He seemed confident, as if it were only a matter of finding them, and the game would be over and he would be the winner.

Chekov let out a yelp, though why was beyond Kirk. He was certainly not under any sort of attack. Sulu immediately began to head in his direction. They met and moved before Finnegan could track the origin of the sound, and Kirk realized that it had been some sort of signal.

Sulu looked Chekov dead in the eye. The younger man nodded and made a gesture with his hand. Sulu motioned in one direction, and Chekov again nodded and drew a circle in the air. The two broke apart.

They knew he would track the sound, Kirk realized. They were setting him up. Coldly, and efficiently, they were trapping him.

They were on him before he knew it. Outnumbered and boxed in, he never had a chance.

"Hi." Chekov spoke, and took a step to the right. Finnegan wouldn't be able to see him among the shadows, Kirk realized.

"We aren't kids, you know." Sulu commented easily. He too moved, as if expecting Finnegan to follow his voice.

"Vell, _he_ isn't." Chekov amended.

"Alright." Sulu said with a sigh, this time addressing Chekov. "I'm done. This game got boring shortly after it began."

"You're the one who agreed to it." Chekov pointed out.

"_You're_ the one who had to defend the Captain's honor." Sulu retorted.

Finnegan tried to use the perceived opportunity. He darted towards the corner.

Chekov growled; Sulu sighed. Both fired without breaking their conversation. The alarm sounded. The game was over.

Chekov and Sulu were still arguing as they joined the others. Uhura pulled them into a big hug. "That was amazing!" She said. "I had no idea you were so good at this game! Why on earth wouldn't you want to play?"

Sulu managed to disentangle himself from Uhura, though Chekov just let her hang off him. "Is boring." Chekov said, in answer to her question.

Sulu forestalled the inevitable echo. "Yes, boring. In comparison to some of the training exercises we did at the Academy, Chekov finds this boring."

Chekov rolled his eyes. "And Sulu doesn't like playing with someone who isn't as good as he is. Says is unsportsmanlike. But he doesn't like playing vith me, either."

"I always get hurt when I play with you." Sulu reminded him.

"And I get off vithout a scratch?" Chekov demanded. "Anyvay, ve _had_ to play."

Sulu sighed. "You said it, Uhura, the Captain's honor was at stake."

"And you still said no." Uhura replied, puzzled. She wasn't the only one.

Chekov snorted. "That vas before ve met the Commodore." He muttered something in Russian that Kirk guessed was probably non-complimentary. Sulu's exasperated sigh confirmed this speculation.

Kirk wondered if the two really had done training exercises together back at the Academy. It was unusual for two people with such an age difference, and it was certainly unusual for them to have had the same partners more than once or twice. He made a mental note to look into it later.

For now, he was satisfied with the knowledge that these two were downright dangerous when it came to laser tag.

* * *

Disclaimer: Star Trek does not belong to me.

Author's Note: So the plan, now that school's started up again, is to update once a week, but I'm not making any promises. I'll _try_. Also, please review, of course. Though I hardly need say it, you guys are great about letting me know what you think. It's so gratifying.


	25. Chapter 25

Kirk scanned the rec room as he talked to the ambassador, checking to see that everything was going at least acceptably. Mr. Spock was not here for this reception, at the suggestion of the cultural expert on these people; he had suggested that their _very_ tactile culture might cause some difficulties, especially if the ambassador, or one of his party, should try to _hug_ the Vulcan.

Kirk had agreed, somewhat reluctantly, and had braced himself and warned his people that the new race they were encountering had almost no concept of personal space. Thus warned, they had been ready for this reception, or so Kirk had thought.

He had not been prepared to be hugged fiercely by the ambassador, or kissed by one of the aides, or to have another aid stand practically on top of him with his hand in Kirk's pocket (okay, not literally, Kirk had to admit, but it sure felt like it).

It had been all he could do not to jerk away. Still, he had reacted, and it had been enough to worry the ambassador.

"Is something wrong?" Ambassador Jahi had asked, placing a hand upon Kirk's shoulder.

Kirk had forced a smile and shook his head. "No, not at all." He had replied. But the damage had been done.

As he looked around now he saw much the same thing. Try as his people might, they just weren't ready to have complete strangers so close. Things were quickly getting tense.

Kirk frowned as Sulu artfully ducked under the arm of one of Jahi's aides and all but dashed for the door. Har, the aide in question, stared after him in shock and dismay.

He swiftly made his way across the room to wrap an arm around Jahi, who was speaking with an uncomfortable Uhura, and begin to speak urgently in his ear.

Jahi's people began to pull away from the crew of the _Enterprise_, and to gather amongst themselves. Kirk frowned and wondered what on earth he was supposed to do now. How did he fix this?

The door opened; Sulu had returned, a slightly confused Chekov in tow. They stopped, and Sulu looked around for a minute before spotting his target and heading straight for Har.

Sulu tapped the aide lightly on the shoulder, and apparently began introducing Chekov. Predictably, Har pulled Chekov into a fierce hug and kissed him on the forehead.

Kirk stared as Chekov grinned hugely and returned the gesture. Sulu darted a safe distance away then, and Har frowned as he watched the man go, but Chekov tugged lightly on his sleeve to regain his attention, and soon the two were talking away.

If the fact that their bodies were practically touching as they spoke bothered Chekov, it didn't show. He also didn't seem to mind being prodded, poked, patted, hugged, or Har wrapping an arm around his waist and leading over to meet Jahi.

As more of Jahi's people began to gather, Kirk found his view of the young man obstructed. Whatever was going on seemed to be going well, however, so Kirk was content to let it be for now.

He started slightly; Sulu had joined him, amusement causing the beginnings of a smile to try to force their way into his expression. Kirk didn't ask what was so funny; he figured Sulu would probably tell him if he wanted him to know. For now, the two stood in silence as Chekov became the center of attention and Kirk's crew tried unsuccessfully to hide their relief.

Kirk shifted slightly. Jahi was approaching now, one arm wrapped around Chekov's shoulders. Chekov was gesturing in a manner that told Kirk he was trying to explain something to the ambassador. Kirk was surprised to hear him nearly shouting, and even more surprised when the ambassador reached up and pulled his ear.

Chekov scowled at the ambassador for a second, but his expression cleared as they stopped before Kirk and Sulu, who was courageously resisting the urge to duck behind his Captain.

"I believe you have met Keptin Kirk?" Chekov asked. Ambassador Jahi nodded, and poked Chekov in the chest.

"Of course I have met him. Who do you think let me on board?" Jahi demanded. His demeanor was more pleasant now, however, than it had been then.

Chekov laughed. "Okay, okay. And you've met Sulu too, yes?" Ambassador Jahi nodded once more. Chekov frowned at Sulu. "You don't have to hide; he's not going to bite." He said as he stepped what seemed to Kirk as unusually close to his friend.

Sulu sighed, and laid his right hand on Chekov's chest and promptly pushed the younger man backwards and increased the distance between them. "So?" He asked, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

"So vhat?" Chekov asked. "I don't understand you. These people are nice, just like back home."

"Then perhaps they should visit Russia sometime." Sulu suggested cheerfully.

Chekov laughed, and turned to explain to a puzzled Jahi. "See, Sulu and I are wery good friends. But he grew up not touching people, and not being close to people. It doesn't mean he doesn't like me or that he's upset vith me."

Ambassador Jahi seemed to consider this. "This is just the way your people are, then?" He asked. Chekov nodded.

"Most of the people here grew up not touching much." The Ensign added. "And they need more space."

"And you?" Jahi asked. "Do you need more space as well?"

Chekov shrugged. "I grew up vith more space than your people, but it does not bother me. It's actually nice to be around people who don't need as much space for a change."

"I see." The ambassador said slowly. "But one thing. He-_Sulu_, was it? He touched you."

Chekov nodded. "Yes. Vhen ve first met, I did not alvays remember that he needed more space. So if I got too close, ve decided he could just move me to a distance that is better for him."

Ambassador Jahi considered this for a moment. Then he smiled. "I like this idea." He said. "It is much like when we put our hands over the mouth to let someone know they are talking too much or pull on their ear to let them know they are talking too loudly. It is better than this flinching and pulling away-these indicate to us a lack of good feelings: distrust, anger, dislike, fear."

That explained why things had been getting so tense, at least. Kirk nodded at this. "It seems like a good idea." He agreed.

"And perhaps no touching, unless your companion doesn't mind. Perhaps you might let them either touch you first or not, whichever they prefer." Sulu suggested.

Ambassador nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, your Pavel spoke to me of this Spock. That Vulcans did not like to be touched at all. He said also that most races do not like being touched but rarely. He also says you, Sulu, find it distinctly uncomfortable."

"He von't even let me hug him." Chekov complained with a laugh. Sulu rolled his eyes at the younger man, but the dark look he had been given the Russian at the Ambassador's statement softened.

Ambassador Jahi beamed at Kirk. "If this is acceptable, then I will inform my people, and you may inform yours, and we will try our best to remember our differences."

Kirk nodded in agreement. "Thank you for being so patient with us. I do apologize for any earlier misunderstandings."

"As do I, Captain. As do I." Jahi hesitated. "Pavel says that when _you_ greet one another, you do what is called a handshake?" He inquired. He reached out his hand uncertainly.

Kirk took it in his own, and demonstrated the action. Then, to the surprise of both, he pulled the Ambassador into a hug. After all, if Ambassador Jahi could compromise, so could James T. Kirk.

He wasn't certain, but out of the corner of his eye Kirk thought he saw Chekov and Sulu exchange high fives.

* * *

Disclaimer: Star Trek does not belong to me.


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